Submission

It's late summer, but I'd rather call it early autumn. Two days ago I sensed a different scent in the wind. It was the scent of autumn, greeting us with the first chilly breeze. Now the rain carries on the slow prelude that takes us to the colourful sound of autumn songs. I've never understood why is it that people dislike autumn that much. I think it has a certain beauty in it, and I must also admit I've always loved wearing layers of clothes. It's sufficiently cold for a scarf and a hat, which I both enjoy wearing also. But this is so very trivial. I feel my brain functions the best in autumn. When it's cold outside, there's more space for relevant thoughts, mind-tracks.. Perhaps I feel all of this because autumn has this implicit melancholy echo, which I somehow can relate to. I know I think too much, I relish in my thoughts and the next moment drown in them. It's like an addiction, you love doing it until the quicksand swallows you with no mercy, and despite ..
.. okay this shall be continued. I just violated a thought or something I came up with previously. My conclusion to give up putting effort into black holes failed. I'm going to drive in my bizarre state of mind to town, and see what's cooking. I'm craving for stability, but hunting on an erupting volcano.