ash falling, sun setting.

I have these periods that descend on me every year or so:

why am I here?
what is my use?
where is my love?
am I already whole?


I don't feel whole, but it's preposterous to say such things with the sun on your face and friends all around and lungs that inflate and redden your blood. I'm sorry wide world and wonderful people in it! I don't know what's gotten into me these days, only that a familar enemy has decided to visit again.

I let him in now, opening the door and taking his coat. I decide to indugle that urge to tumble into a dense melancholy. the only reason I have conditioned myself to fight it is for reasons of "personal growth" and "objective presence of mind."

I'm staring at the candle on the table, its flame wavering like a leaf in a gust, lapping at the tiny wall of glass.

I am present now. I am present and I am aware of the heaviness in me- both happen at once. this should suffice my standard.


and I figure I can't be cured, my gentleman caller is like a flu. thus what I need is some time in bed with movies on my laptop and some brie and crackers, and some online window shopping, in short, hibernating. The cold is coming with its friend the dark. I will give myself over to them, and to the leaves that are drying, and to that strange alternate reality that is fall and winter.

more soon, I am laughing at myself: earlier I was online looking at potential jewelry purchases and thinking about style and frivolity: my favorites! What would I do without them?

That said:
xo,
Yours,

Carina