What a learning experience this weekend has been.

Some bridges don't burn, but fall apart all by themselves anyway, decaying over time. And it's a shame, but it's probably inevitable. Oh well, this is life I suppose; and in a sense I'm glad. In a bittersweet sort of way, I am glad, because to my mind this life is all about growth and progression, and what can be seen to be more progressive than the loss of the old, and the re-emphasising of the new, and the prospects of the future?

This is not to say that I don't miss what once was there, the web we wove together managed to catch the best of times, and I will press snapshots into the scrapbook in my head, but I simply don't think things are ever going to be the same again. But maybe that's ok.


and on a different note

Everyone seems to be wailing about the winter coming in. I, on the other hand, welcome it, for now it feels like the world is finally in touch with me. It is cold, and it is grey, and it is bleak, and I feel at home here. This taken on it's own no doubt seems morbid, and perhaps it is, but personally, I genuinely do feel at home in the wintertime, and so right now I am starting to feel a lot better about everything than I have done for the past few months.
There is nothing I like more during this season, than going for a walk, often to the beach and the cobalt sea which arrives in these months. Here, putting on my favourite songs, having the world cradle and envelope me. Feeling my face turns cold though the rest of me is wrapped up and warm, as the dim sky lies draped like a grey blanket overhead. Letting every breath irrigates my lungs with the taste and smell of the very air itself. And all this, accompanied by vast, dark, velvet sounds, providing the perfect score to such a rich and overpowering time, as I open up my senses to the world, find that connection, and rediscover the home I have within myself.