31082020

Tomorrow’s September… which, even though technically I suppose it’s not so, means for all other intents and purposes that summer is over, and autumn has begun. It certainly feels that way in the weather, which has gotten cool enough that the days are now consistently bearable, and the nights even a bit cold. When I was younger, even just a few years ago, every month and year’s passage felt so profound, like a chance to start anew, although I rarely ever did. Around this time I would’ve been going back to school, which was always a bit of an ambivalent event in my life; but at least it was there, you know, as a way of understanding my progress. Now though there’s no more external structure. No more meaningful units to demarcate the moments of my life, good or bad or really just nothing at all: to prevent all the days and nights from just slipping into one another. I’ve never been more simultaneously oblivious to the coming and going of seasons; and yet also acutely, painfully aware of their passage. I never realise it until it’s too late – and by that point, all that’s really left for me is a sense of emptiness, and nostalgia.

Sawyer came over today and we celebrated his birthday together at the lake. I had some tteokbokki and fried chicken delivered beforehand, and we ate it with soju and Asahi. The weather was exceedingly pleasant – cool and dry, with a slight breeze – and the sky was bright and filled with light. It was by all means as close as one probably gets to a perfect day, barring any extraordinary miracles or circumstances. And yet I also can’t help but feel a sense of sombreness as well for some reason: a tinge of sadness, in many ways probably tied to the changing of the seasons. I have the feeling that this winter will be particularly hard, although I hope I’m wrong. I don’t know why these kinds of things make me feel like this, although as long as I can remember, they always have. I really do wish I was more of an optimist by nature.