Not music or poetry today I'm too burnt on it. Just free-writing.

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There's this time of year when you're suspended between summer and winter. I think most places call it Fall, but I don't think I've experienced such a thing in my lifetime. We can hear the rumblings of a potential change of season, looking at the leaves almost changing color. The scenery goes from a bright landscape to something a bit more subdued. Not quite snowing, but you can tell it's not too far off with the frosty air tickling your skin. I've loved the idea of Autumn, but much like the season itself those ideas never seem to come to play. Carving pumpkins, and long walks with hot chocolate or lates. Campfires, ceramic mugs, and warm blankets. Polaroid pictures, and the smell of cinnamon. Hell, even handing out chocolate to the devilish children, who only now are allowed to dress in the attire that represents their inner selves.

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I've always said and believed that happiness stemming from something like a holiday seemed very unusual. I think the human experience in and of itself, is unusual though. Although I don't believe I'm above festivities, I think this thought process makes a lot of other people perceive me that way. I think it's possible I even view myself that way. I wonder if that's a cause for what seems to be a pretty long seasonal depression I suffer this time of year.

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I love the idea of Fall, but in reality, I hate it.

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It might be because I have to go buy a new jacket year, and I don't want to. It might be because it reminds me of how shallow a lot of friendships, family connections, or just relationships, in general, are with the Holiday season in lieu. Maybe I've always been too insecure to dress up, out of fear of being looked at or laughed at. Perhaps it's an anxious thing. There's this reminder right before Halloween that all of the positive trends I've made with my physical are going to disappear. My pants will be a little bit tighter, and slightly less comfortable. I'm reminded that I'll have a rough start to spring if I care to correct that.

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Ceramic mugs filled with hot chocolate, warm alcohol, pumpkins, and seasonal depression.

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I think I hate this time of year, but maybe that'll change.