I feel like my life at this moment in time is in a sort of suspended animation that results from being stuck in between seasons. This is especially distressing to me because this is one of the two seasonal changes of the year that brings me discomfort. Today was so beautiful and I sat on the hill with some friends and pursued "hippie freshman" activities, or so deemed by the bro who drove by and yelled out the window. To clarify, hippie freshman activities are playing guitar, taking pictures, and writing in journals. I wrote in two journals. One was my real journal, which I attempted to keep regularly at the beginning of this year and failed miserably. The other is the memo pad in this picture. I carry it in my pocket and it's almost half finished. I can't stop the wordflow; it's my new habit. It was never apparent to me how many meaningless phrases float through my head until I had somewhere to write them. Some of the phrases are not meaningless, and they go in the notebook too.
Quote of the day, shared with my by my dad:
"Autumn is a second spring where every leaf is a flower."
If only the passing into October was like that into June.