Autumn's Message

Autumn comes with a smothering stillness. The chill in the air reminds me that it is okay to seek warmth, so I do. I stay in bed till 3PM. I wear fuzzy socks. I drink hot peppermint tea. I light candles and watch slow, sad movies. I fall in love with the bliss of doing nothing. I masturbate to the sounds of crackling fires and rustling leaves.

They say the world is ending, but the season begs to differ. It cocoons me in a bubble of safety like a kitten in a mother’s embrace, with the goldening of the trees and softening of the sunlight. The tide of my soul pulls me under into a waking sleep. I do not know what to believe.

There are fires that do not bring warmth. There are tides that won’t stop rising. There are slow, sad movies that are not movies at all. There are shivering, motherless kittens, desperate to find their way back. It is tempting to paint the tragedy of the world beautiful. Here, I already have. Maybe it is not a bad thing. I have tried many times, but can’t seem to paint it any other way.

Autumn seems to bring with it a message: you do not have to do anything else but this. Nothing else but be, as best you can, exactly where you are. You do not have to work to make the tragedy of yourself beautiful. It already is. You do not have to see yourself as tragedy. You do not have to end here. You do not have to end.