I languish in July. The heat, the slowness of academia in my office, the weariness of being still and hot. By July, I’ve lost the dreamy ideals of summertime and yet find no promise of fall – August holds that promise – not July.
It’s the same way with February. I find myself dreary of the cold and rain and the optimism of coziness has vanished. Yet March holds the promise of spring, not February.
These are the months in which I consistently find myself void of energy and despairing of goals, hopes, and dreams. The hottest month and the coldest month are the last big hurdles, after a series of hurdles, to spring and fall. I’m running up to them on inspirational empty. It’s no wonder I stumble.
I’ve never been good at pacing myself and perseverance is not my strongest virtue.
“so let me tell the truth
let me come alive
let me build bridges
into your life
I’m sick of being born
again and again
i don’t need conditions to
let you in”
-aereogramme: barriers
It’s the same way with February. I find myself dreary of the cold and rain and the optimism of coziness has vanished. Yet March holds the promise of spring, not February.
These are the months in which I consistently find myself void of energy and despairing of goals, hopes, and dreams. The hottest month and the coldest month are the last big hurdles, after a series of hurdles, to spring and fall. I’m running up to them on inspirational empty. It’s no wonder I stumble.
I’ve never been good at pacing myself and perseverance is not my strongest virtue.
“so let me tell the truth
let me come alive
let me build bridges
into your life
I’m sick of being born
again and again
i don’t need conditions to
let you in”
-aereogramme: barriers
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