One morning passes once again without nothing special to do. I'm waiting for an inspiration. The colourful leafs are falling down outside, and the gentle rays of the autumn sun caress the nature. The gray sky above covers the moment. My love is away for a while, and I just sit and think about the world and my existence within it. The memories of the previous night make me feel warm. I'm so tired. I really could need some real vacation. There are too many things to do, but for some reason I can't get anything done. This month is an intermediary between the previous and the following one, both of which seem to have more meaning for the latter half of this year than this one. The autumn has come, and it fills everything with its colours and its all-covering shades of gray. My mind is empty; I really don't have anything to write. Yet I write anyhow, just to make this moment feel like it's worth it.
I had a strange dream last night. I met my red-haired friend, who was disappointed and sad because her dreams had not come true; a pursuit of a goal had failed. "Don't worry", I said, "simply try it again; this time just with more modest goals, and you'll make it". "I wish it was that simple", she said, "you don't understand my position". And I woke up to the twilight of the morning, feeling happy as ever.
The time of change is ahead. The past, the present, and the future intertwine. Right now I am where I am supposed to be. Am I going to the right direction? I guess I'll ust have to wait and see...
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