The Changing Leaves

I would very much like my life to be like the seasons.

If, by some inhuman capacity, you were able to stand perfectly still while the world blazed by you would have some idea of what I mean. You'd be able to see them changing constantly. The brown crunch underfoot inevitably turns to green, filling the air with their freshness and adding an involuntary spring to your step. Then the green matures, turns golden and regal, and eventually takes one last glorious dive from the the tips of treetops to the firmament. Trees almost shudder in Autumn, as if they want to shed their leaves, if just for the enjoyment of nostalgia. Old turns to new as if that is what was meant to be, and just as joyously what was new becomes old. You can't enjoy the seasons without enjoying the passing of them.

I want to my life to be like that. In truth it may already be like that, but what I really want is to see it that way again. I want to enjoy it all, even the less pleasant bits, the way I used to not too long ago.

This is quickly becoming maudlin, which I did not intend. But perhaps writing without real intent is precisely what I need. That's how things were back then, you see. I wasn't trying. I was just doing. Just living. Trying to make the leaves change, or make them not change, may have been my biggest mistake. And so, I'd like to get back to that feeling, and perhaps writing with abandon is my ticket there. This blog is a silly little thing, much like the silly little thing I had before. But its new, and because of that its still sort of hidden. I don't have to worry about friends and loved ones getting their feelings hurt, or family members angry at the secrets I tell. Well, I suppose I do have to worry about that, but I'll try not to. I can be honest here. I can be frank. Yes, this silly thing...this seems like a good start.