twilight:
Autumn nights, autumn nights, even in the Bay Area they're so beautiful they make you want to die cry. I have to get out of the Bay Area. It isn't the general cold here that is killing me, as I'm craving that feeling of November and December, the melancholy, deep, quiet cold air, when nature has died and strange memories of your entire life come to haunt and are more vivid and alive than any other time of year.

Oh, the things I remember. It reminds me that I'm here and now. I'm here. And I'm now. The whole city is far away from me now. I don't know a soul here. I know that if I met a soul here, I wouldn't like them. I need community to live. I've rejected every community I've had. That is to say I've rejected what I need to live. At least food and water keeps me metabolizing.

The windows aren't double-paned, apartments aren't really insulated, I don't need my long coat, I may or may not need my thick sweatshirt. There won't be any anticipation of snow, there will be no snow to smother and mute the cityscape, no snow crunching beneath my feet, no snowtracks to let you know someone's been there. We'll get rain. Miserable rain. Weeks and weeks of rain. No snow.

One more week until Daylight Savings Time ends and my system goes into shock, shut down, gets buried for the winter, and my spine turns into a knife's edge. Another year of "I can't, I can't, I can't", and yet somehow April comes around and . . . I did. Maybe it'll be different this time.