The summer that stole my soul


As the days shorten and trees commit ritual suicide, I can’t help but reminisce about the past summer. I get flashbacks and the memories that strike out the most are the ones that remind me of the fact that I haven’t been able to shed my infamous self-destructive streak. I fucked up. I fucked up majorly and for the last quarter of 2012 I have been tirelessly running away from the consequences of the past summer. I can’t outrun them forever, one day I am going to have to stop and sort out the mess I made and it looks that day will come sooner than I had anticipated. I wish it hadn’t, I was getting used to the idea of living a quite life but reality seems to have a propensity for toying with my emotions but making me believe that I have it all figured out only to come back a few months later to stab me in the nuts. Looking back at my fuckery though, I deserved each and every stab and this time it’s no different.

On the bright side, life has been so dull that a little trouble isn’t all that bad. Fuck, who am I fooling, I’ve gone through this before, two years ago. I should be older and wiser and yet I still manage to sabotage myself like a confused little boy. I’m starting to annoy myself.