It’s 8am. I’m pounding coffee by the liter trying to keep pace with the calendar. Can you believe it's now September? I’m still trying to get my head on straight from June — meanwhile the fair starts Friday and I’m prepping my bank account for Autumn outfits.
As I was coming into the swing of summer I thought that it’d be as dreary and forgetful as Spring had been: pacing through the days with decrepit bones and somber trains of thought; hopping on for the same ride every time without so much as a flicker of promise.
All I did was flip a switch. Not really, I wish it was that easy. It’s hard to escape the death-grip of your own damnation. My silver lining lied in the depths of my own imagination. I gave up on everything but myself, shed my accrued masks, and finally did the one thing I had always been meaning to do: try. Thankfully summer came on strong and bold. blink-182 came in clutch once again when I needed them most. And I’ve done nothing but work. I’m very busy, preoccupied, and stressed, but in the best possible way. Now I feel as though I'm consistently making new waves. Whatever that means.
