November rains are back. Everyday it is raining, raining, raining. The skies are crying, weeping tears of bittersweet joy. Massive clouds of whitish-grey matter cover the sky, creating a reflecting gloom that shrouds the earth. Some twists must be taken, must they not?
Even the air is set with a dewy mist. Winds blow, though not too hard. The ground is moist; in some places it is damp and soggy from all the wetness.
The wisps of mists fill the air as it evaporates, awakening the senses – perhaps with a start – and the soul, with a renewed vigor, skips along the sidewalks in merriment. For through pain, through jagged maps, through persistence it came through it all, and is still coming, on its way. One day soon it shall be no less obvious, because its dear heart would thump with powerful beats along to the tune of the music whispering in its ears.
November is a beautiful month, the time of the year when Mars and Pluto cross paths and stars collide. It is the time of the year of every other year when little baby scorpions emerge from their eggs and take their very first crawl.
Oh! The clock is ticking, and I am running out of time. I must put on my birthday suit. For in a few minutes I am turning 24. How old can I be?
I am in oh-so-deeeeep love with the month of November.
PS: This post was written a few days prior to the author’s 24th birthday.