The wind sounded sweeter yesterday. Now it's just rusty leaves harmonizing together in sadness, slowly...carefully, as if not to disturb the clouds...not to disturb the silence.
I always thought that november was magical. The way the sun kind of dies, leaving the sky gray, leaving us in doubt.
The way i can smell fear better this time of year. People are oddly transparent when they're worried...times are bad, i guess everyone is worried.
There aren't many pretty things left around, november is honest. Nothing is over decorated, nothing is flashy, nothings screams something false! I guess, life is...as it is...
Parcs settle me, the emptiness is cosy, it's familiar, it's real. Headphones make the best companion.
What will you be hearing in yours? What are the sounds, the tunes, that match life?
Do you have your own rhapsody?
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