Jane St. James (selain) wrote,
Jane St. James

What It's Like

The humidity seeks vengeance for former winters. It strikes in Autumn (I know Autumn traditionally begins in late September, but it's the month that counts).

I like being alone and basking in the peace outside the every day calamity that is September. What is this month but one big traffic jam full of angry and confused students?

At least I won't need to put in much effort until later, when schools start grueling into their theatrical performance of the semester. I've heard there's a dramatic retelling of Raiders of the Lost Arc. I'll be crafting Nazi flags and banners, and an arc. Well. The little angel statues on top of the arc.

But the solitude feels nice, coming home every day and drinking a cold beer or a hot dessert tea, depending on the weather - even the hottest days can cool off sometimes. I think of the feeling of this, and only this. If I let my mind stray too far from the moment, I start thinking, and we all know where that leads.

Misery. It leads to misery. And memories. And more misery.

As my good friend Matt said: In case of memories, stop thinking immediately.
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