#wakemeupwhen[november]ends

[pkmnwater]

~Ochisou na marui tsuki, Kimi mo dokka de miteru kana. Kokoro made kaze ni notte, Kimi ni todokeba ii no ni.~ Sonna koto wo omotte oyasumi.

[pkmnwater]

WMUWNE: Sweater Weather

~I hate the beach.~ I say I love sweater weather, but that may be a little wrong. I love it when it’s chilly and cold enough that sweaters are the common choice outdoors, the time before heavy winter jackets come out. But that’s not really because of the cold. I don’t know, for some reason sweaters just seem extra comfortable and cozy, especially this time of the year, but only while out. Girls seem prettier and guys seem friendlier. Maybe it’s the juxtaposition I like, how we try to bundle up while we’re out, but once we get inside the most comfortable of clothes are light and flexible, or perhaps because that it almost encourages us to get closer together?? Or maybe it’s just that the seasons are changing and the most drastic of changes in terms of attire for the whole year happens when we put our Summer clothes away for the Fall.  Y’know, that’s always been something that’s bugged me ever since I can remember. Living in Canada, there’s four seasons, Spring, Summer, Winter, Fall. Simple enough, right?? Well, the thing that bothers me is how seasons are something so trivial, yet so important and essential. Furthermore, it’s always bothered me how we have “favourite” times of the year. Don’t get me wrong, I fully understand; when you’re given a set of things, you’re bound to have a preference. Colours, numbers, times of the day, names, words, etc. All of which are intrinsically the same when you think about it, but also different. (As opposed to a favourite work, such as a song, poem, etc. which is art and therefore can be argued good and bad, value, and how it could be improved upon, among other things.) In my mind, seasons fell under this too. There’s nothing to be done about the seasons, they come and go and cannot be controlled, so what’s the point of having a preference?? It’s not like we actually go and “take it in”; we simply live through it accordingly. I complain about it, but I too fall into the trap regardless.  For the sake of stating it, my favourite season was Summer throughout elementary school, a preference I shared with one of my closest friends at the time, and for a rather trivial reason too. However, since then, I’ve gradually drifted into liking Winter most. Right now though, I think I have a lean towards Spring, but we’ll see once the winds change again. Despite how mundane it is to have a favourite season, in my mind, I’ve always disliked Fall. In particular, November. Ugh, even just saying the word brings forebodes of dread within me. In the corner of my mind since I was little I’ve always had a certain distaste for the eleventh month of the year. It was the worst of Fall, things get wet and windy. The cold never bothered me, but watching the sky always became pretty much impossible around this time of year. The days get grey and the nights are just dark, not yet having the reflective luster that snow brings, nor clear enough for the city skyline to be refracted all the way from the horizon to brighten up my vicinity. Even worse is how peoples’ faces always seem more dull during the Fall, a testament that comes to a front by the end of October. Once the final “for fun” festivity of the year passes, people calm down and start to realize the year’s closing out.  For me, November has always marked the end of things, and I’ve hated it for as long as I can remember. [Well, that’s not completely fair, there was a while when November become tolerable to me, but perhaps as a sign of the times, that time has closed out it seems, and I digress.] November for all intents and purposes is the true end of the year in my opinion. While December becomes a happier time with the change of seasons and celebrations of the holidays and the New Year, November is just perpetual with nothing but monotony, if not trepidation. It’s when tests and final assignments are being worked on or thought about for school. It’s when struggling businesses need to figure out whether they can float on another year and/or what they have to do to make that happen. It’s when TV schedules change almost on a bi-weekly basis because viewership becomes so sporadic and unpredictable. And it’s when people start thinking about what they want to have moving forward. There’s just nothing enlightening about it. November is also the darkest month from my observations. Even clear days have a distinct “gray” undertone reminiscent of moorings, but those days are rare as more are marked with droning rains. Terrible droning rains that seem to be endless, bringing the kind or rain that hurts and stings the face as it falls, and then rubbed in a little further by piercing winds. Nights are even worse as it almost feels like all the light is sucked upwards. Streetlights fail to illuminate any more of the path than what’s directly below, and the blowing wind too distracted to lead travelers on any semblance of a path. And the moon seems like it’s not even trying to embellish the sky, as if it too needs a rest to recoup from the rest of the year. November is the end of things. And I’ve always hated it. But at least it’s sweater weather. 

[pkmnwater]

~I had a dream, we were sipping whiskey neat.~

I’m grateful. I’m so grateful.

[pkmnwater]

Your loss.

[pkmnwater]

Live and Learn.

~Can you feel life, Moving through your mind? Oooh, looks like you came back for more. Yeah... Can you feel time, Slippin' down your spine? Oooh, you try and try to ignore. Yeah... But you can hardly swallow Your fears and pain. When you can't help but follow, It puts you right back where you came.~

[pkmnwater]

Why do we fall?

Like a phoenix, let it burn. Burn so bright and so brilliantly. Burn until there’s nothing left but a flicker. Burn and ignite so intense that there’s never even a wither. Nothing hotter, not even the sun. Let it burn until the thought is seared so deep and so complete. Then fall. Fall so far and so fast. Fall thoroughly and through all. Fall until there’s nothing below. Until there’s nowhere else to go. Then. Deshi basara! Deshi Basara!

[pkmnwater]

Solace.

It’s nice that sometimes, after I’ve accepted that I’m alone, I get reminders that I’m not. I truly am grateful for the people who’ve taken the time to consider me. And even though I don’t answer completely truthfully, it is still nice to hear from you. That’s compounded by how unlikely I thought it’d be for people to message me. (It’s true though, once I stopped my thoughts from asking for more, I got it. I’m lead to believe that it’s all just coincidence and happenstance, but it really is uncanny.) P.S.: excuse me if I’ve already used this title, I couldn’t think of anything else to name the thought. 

[pkmnwater]

Chaos/Beautiful.

One night a few weeks ago, I had a dream where I held something beautiful in my hands. I crushed it. Obliterated it entirely. I destroyed this thing that was trying its best to make the world a better place. This dream scared me...because it felt good.