rayofmemory's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ::Breath of Mourning:: It's that time of year again. Where my depression always seems to take a turn for the worse. There's a little voice in my head telling me that it will be far more worse this year. I can feel it, this unbearable feeling of dread or maybe it's emptiness. It's the season. There is something about Autumn that is so poetic and morbid. It's the coldness but it's also the warmness. Even on a warm Autumn day I can't shake the sullen feeling. It's the rain and the dead leaves and a combination of the two. It's the bare trees and gloomy sky. Autumn is so seductive with it's sunset leaves but so sadistic with it's harshness. Autumn is my perfect companion. I will take endless pictures of leaves, sit on the cold dead grass reading and find myself wandering aimlessly in it's icy embrace with tears running down my face more than any other time. I love its misery. The false hope of brilliantly colored leaves and the yearning for someone to just touch me, to hold me and keep me warm. But I'm only greeted with that empty chill of Autumn that follows me everywhere, like a shadow. I love every moment of its wretchedness, from that first breath, that cold intake fresh in the morning that smells of dead leaves, to staring at the bare trees just before the first snowfall. So content with it's romantic cruelty. Footnote: The title of this entry was taken from a painting that a close friend painted for me that hangs on my wall. It influenced this piece of writing as much as Autumn did itself. 10:20 p.m. - 09.28.04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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