1.
September had the best of intentions. But then she was swallowed in large chunks, mouthfuls of days. All she could do was dissolve in the acids of memory. Settle into the slimy folds of a cerebral cortex.
2.
I found out about a death. A very specific death of someone I knew obliquely who was nonetheless important. He supported me in ways I didn’t know I needed and didn’t understand the value of. I would like to find motivation in this subtle regret. Somehow use this as a catalyst for courage. How many years can I lie fallow instead of tossing a few seeds to see what happens?
3.
I sometimes think I don’t challenge myself enough. Don’t surround myself with people who push my limits. It’s leading to a strange mix of fear and complacency. Too much self-satisfaction is bad for the soul.
4.
I was feeling chatty before I sat down to write. If you were here, you’d know what I mean. I miss you. In every sense of the word.
Too much self-satisfaction is bad, as is too little.
I am coming to feel September is just like January, so many good intentions, so much hope, so much energy, that is rapidly sucked up and unused. At least in September there are beautiful colours to lessen the blow.