Summer is over,

February is gone

March has a bite to it I’d rather not know

I walked past a shop window today and my heart leapt at the prospect of winter, jeans, jackets, scarves, yet summers hot breeze blew through my hair, persistently

Still, as usual Time is about its business, passing as it does
So I go about mine, filling it, chronicling it, wasting it, chasing it, remembering it...

I got a tattoo this summer,
It’s a spiral shape
A spiral because it is a symbol that is common across many cultures through time
It’s never ending cycles are supposed to symbolise growth, change, the cycles of life

This particular shape, to which I can attach so much meaning, is a fusion of old and new
It means something to me because it resembles how I view the world, and if i forget in my old age, it will at least represent my youth

I look at it every now and then and think shit, that’s there forever, or as long as I am.
And that’s ok. I hope I’m here for a long time

I fell out of love this summer – finally
I did not write my whole thesis like i had promised myself i would
But I did live this summer, for once I really did.

And now summer is over, and I'm more or less glad
because even if March has a sharp bite
Winter is coming, and that makes me smile.

It’s easy to avoid yourself when you’re busy, often you don’t even realise you are doing it.

But after a moments calm, when the pace of life slows for a time, the sound of silence fast becomes overpowering. Amidst the silent drone all you hear are those thoughts that bedevil you most, that yip and yap and fizz in your ears, altering the chemical balance of your brain, causing a mood swing so fast you practically clothesline yourself...

...someone makes a joke at your expense, when you are feeling just a tad too tired, a little bit over it, and like they pressed the eject button, you find yourself thrown sideways into a hall of mirrors...

You open your eyes and can’t avoid catching a glimpse of yourself - In an instant you are reacquainted with your insecurities, irrationalities, paranoia.

and like a guillotine it slices through you. You realise that despite being happy, alive and confident in your shoes; that same feeble, scared and battered being remains within you.

Thus you haunt yourself in the silence, in the dark and the quiet,

and in broad daylight your soul feasts upon itself, despite your most sincere protests.