thought # 108- i thought perpetual, you thought seasonal

as i write, intertwined between my blankets, tired, vacant and nursing a headache that the rain, lack of thermal underwear and unbearable cold has kindly given, i think of my favourite (insert sarcasm) season of the year. personally, apart from the fashion and end of financial year sales, i do not fancy winter at all. some people adore the chill, the reason to resurrect their old gumboots and oversized knitwear, the hot chocolate/scrabble/movie nights in front of a blazing fire, the unintentional weight gain, the bed weather, taking photos of dead branches, scribbling your crush's name on a fogged up car window and everything that winter is synonymous with. although these reasons are good and pleasant to have, i don't believe we need a whole season to do this. as cliched and hackneyed as it sounds, i find that the cyclical moments of life are in sync with the seasons. in retrospect, i look back to the first six months of 2010 and find myself overwhelmed by all the events and happenings it carries and is yet to reveal.

summer was sizzling, hot, impulsive and brilliant. the weather equated the tanned skin i received from qld, the staple of singlets and shorts echoed the events of sydney festival and air conditioning brought me back to late night skype chats with friends, strangers and friends who were once strangers. university did not yet exist, responsibility was unheard of, legalities were chimerical and the world was a naked canvas ready to be explored and exploited.

autumn arrived with much change, it was a season that began as passe and in between, the exact definition of autumn. then life sighted a tornado and an unexpected whirlwind began. i turned 18, i began filthy habits, university was not as delightful as i envisioned it to once be. the heart palpitated and simultaneously crumbled over unpredicated amazing strangers. stress levels rose, it was an intoxicating few months of euphoria and rollercoasters. fun fun fun.

until winter arrived. and to be fair, it has only been four days so i cannot bad mouth it entirely. it may unexpectedly shift for the better and i find winter as the best season to come. however, from observations, i find my days are peppered with stress, sencha peach tea permanently inside my plunger, expensive habits in my bag and on my fingers, unworthily chatting to God, alcoholic friday nights, still awake at 3am and this empty feeling- that no emotion can exactly pinpoint- where one cannot see any progress, happiness but is still hoping. hoping not for a repeat of summer or autumn, nor for things to unrealistically "become all good again" but that absurd, secretly lovely hope we all nurse in our spirits and mutter under our breath that whatever life is or will be

is just, for we are just... seasonal.

love,

ps. this somewhat totally american, but i adore it.