mahiwaga

I can taste autumn in the air. Septembers have always been bittersweet. Since I turned 30, I haven’t really had much of a chance to reflect, although I find that regret frequently colors my reminiscences.

I am tired and both physically and emotionally aching, and the speed at which everything seems to happen is so bewildering that all I can really do is sit here and gape at the folly and the madness swirling all around me.

I have been trying for the longest time not to give a damn.

Still, there is this emptiness.

Whatever. It never does any good to wonder about these sorts of things when your tired, exasperated, and maybe even a little angry. Tomorrow, as always, promises to be better. That’s what I keep telling myself, at least.