Through the Ice Age (every year)

It has been warmer but it is not like the sweat does not pearl in my forehead every single morning while I’m running down to school always four minutes after I should have been walking with silent steps. This part of fall is the most unsettling one and I can’t decide if I’m happy with the darkness or not used to it yet (or both). These are from two years ago when I lived in a space a lot more isolated but with more visual and regular noise than my current cave. My hair has grown a foot, my hands can play two more songs on the piano and I’ve found comfort in drawing again. The fall is an abyss of everything threatening (except from light and warmth) but for me it’s always this cathartic darkness that helps me evolve. Or look back.

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