In the Hot Summer

My summer in a picture? Well, almost. (Pictured: the '97 cast of Byker Grove; me and my stupid long, dirty hair which still hasn't been cut; a stack of books [not from the library though - but bought on vacation]; and Freddie Mercury. ♥)

My Summer in Fragments:

Long hair always crowding me. Vegetating on a couch of apathy.

(When I'm left alone, I sing; but I'm not left alone very often.)

Staying up til 2 AM doing nothing: such bleary-eyed decadence.

A vacation, most of which I want to erase from my memory.

Listening to Queen: Freddie woos me with his voice and I let myself become utterly seduced.

Byker Grove: watched alone at first, then in marathons with my brother.

(He's an amused witness my squeals and frustrations. Yes, I am crazy.)

Letters and other correspondences: my spotty communication skills becoming more threadbare by the second.

A stack of library books that eventually becomes an Everest I've lost my vim to climb.

Clean Cups; Rowan and Martin's Laugh In; getting lost in my car; Bunheads; gif-making; Fleetwood Mac; emotional breakdowns; Ant and Dec (always).

Inspiration that leads nowhere; despairing at my ineptitude; feeling empty as I chatter to those I love.

But... perhaps overall... a lazy contentment?

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CAN SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME HOW TO MOTIVATE MYSELF, PLEASE?

In our house, summer has been over for about two weeks and I can't accomplish anything. I still have no further direction for my life, so again I'm not furthering my education except by continuing my copyediting course.

I really need to write because that's the only thing I can do, but I can't concentrate. I can't discipline myself.

I'm not suffering from writer's block. What is the problem?

Oh, life is so terribly unappealing.

(I hope someday that I will be glad I was born.)

ANYHOW.

My post title came from the song 'In the Hot Summer' by Catherine Howe. It just seemed appropriate, as the first line is: "In the hot summer / I lost my way..." Not sure she meant it the way I'm applying it, but it's a lovely song, at any rate.

How was your summer? I hope it was groovy and all that. :)

insanity - 3 A.M.

The absence of snow wakened me last night. The edges of the earth were folding inwards, and the trees were rattling their dry bones.

I thought I saw a stranger hunched in the corner; I thought I saw a forgotten bit of sanity scuttling across the floor.

The feeling I was lying in the wrong bed presented itself to me and then refused to leave. With infrequent breathing, I lay and listened to the sound of nothing humming somewhere in the distance.

I told you not to wake me til my eyes are blue, I mumbled at the blank, dim expanse of ceiling.

The sheets were taut over my body: a cocoon, a straitjacket. I found them comforting: knowing they, at least, would hold me forever.

My thoughts hopped around the room, with heartbeats as delicate as those of winterbirds.

Oh, how silent the birds are, was the last thought to slip across my mind, as once more I slipped into a sea of uneasy sleep.

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{Though not what originally inspired this piece, I dedicate this post to the wee hours of the morning and my tendency to wake up during them and exist in an incoherent state, where I am technically awake, but still asleep in many ways.}


{Photo is the cover of Jesca Hoop's EP, Snowglobe.}