Call it self-fulfilling prophecy if you will. Ever since 2002, I have expected September to be a month for losses and general blahness, and it always delivers. This is the time when I get too weak to fight and I lay down my arms and I give in. A time when I willingly give myself over into the darkness and I hibernate.
This is when I use minimal make-up, when I let myself go, physically; that time of the year that I favour grays and blacks and drab colours; when my hair becomes limp even when its clean.
Looking back at my blog entries, September 2010 I wailed about loss and regret and loneliness. August 2011, my last entry said I was content, yet uninspired, and the first entry in October still said I was content, though questioning the nature of happiness. There were no entries for September. In September I had nothing worth speaking about, I guess.
September is a time of transition, and being someone who finds transitions hard, I guess its natural that this month foreshadows a period of gloom for me. This is the time that the sunshine takes on a different cast. This is when the wind starts to creep inside your bones, silently, sinuously. This is when you realise that the year is halfway done, and you find yourself disappointed by what you have not achieved, again. This is the menopausal time of the year.
I look forward to October. October with its mellow sunshine, when leaves start to turn yellow and the nights are lovely. October is, for me, the old and the new coming together. A time for reconciliations, new alliances, a tentative hello from winter, a lingering caress from summer. And September is the in-between in a way that I can't quite explain.
I suppose September is the woman fighting time, age and the loss of youth. And October is the older woman emerging from that fight, triumphant in the knowledge that there is still some life left in her old bones.
Thusly, I hibernate.
See you in October, love.
This is when I use minimal make-up, when I let myself go, physically; that time of the year that I favour grays and blacks and drab colours; when my hair becomes limp even when its clean.
Looking back at my blog entries, September 2010 I wailed about loss and regret and loneliness. August 2011, my last entry said I was content, yet uninspired, and the first entry in October still said I was content, though questioning the nature of happiness. There were no entries for September. In September I had nothing worth speaking about, I guess.
September is a time of transition, and being someone who finds transitions hard, I guess its natural that this month foreshadows a period of gloom for me. This is the time that the sunshine takes on a different cast. This is when the wind starts to creep inside your bones, silently, sinuously. This is when you realise that the year is halfway done, and you find yourself disappointed by what you have not achieved, again. This is the menopausal time of the year.
I look forward to October. October with its mellow sunshine, when leaves start to turn yellow and the nights are lovely. October is, for me, the old and the new coming together. A time for reconciliations, new alliances, a tentative hello from winter, a lingering caress from summer. And September is the in-between in a way that I can't quite explain.
I suppose September is the woman fighting time, age and the loss of youth. And October is the older woman emerging from that fight, triumphant in the knowledge that there is still some life left in her old bones.
Thusly, I hibernate.
See you in October, love.
7 comments:
Just when I'm listening to a song by Allstar Weekend - Blame it on September. Its somehow relevant with this post and our little chat :)
Let's blame it on September
'Cause it hurts to remember her
We can fight to hold on
But August is gone
And even if the sun falls
I hope we don't lose it all
'Cause no summer lasts forever
Just blame it on September
The title made me laugh. For such an unprepossessingly-titled post, its contents aside, it's so beautifully written. Of course, I've always been a big fan of your racy style of writing but in this one here, like in "This is when the wind starts to creep inside your bones, silently, sinuously..." whoa, it's so poetic, so mature, so well-wrought, so finished. And I love the metaphor at the end. Beautiful.
@mimi: September and loss-related songs a tam rassss mawle; it is a bad, bad month!
@Caliopia: Thank you!! I judge myself harshly when it comes to my writing, and this, coming from a respected teacher and blogger, really makes my day :)
Commenting only on the diction of the writing - Simple, articulate and well written. The rest speaks for itself :) Keep writing.
Ahhhh.... delicious writing. Keep writing like this and I might agree to become your literary agent too...among other things! On a personal note, you need hugs, is what a little birdy in the form of a certain Hmar girl told me... so, sending hugs across cyberspace until we meet!
PS: Currently on my 7th try at this word verification thingy. It hates me.
@mimikyo: Thank you! And i have to tell you, your pieces on jonathan and martha, my sentiments exactly!!! I love. BTW, I met your sister the other night, shmall werld.
@DDB: I save your number under DDB, btw :)And thanks and hehe, hug accepted! I haaate the comment thingy too, maybe I should remove it, I dont think there are any robots out to plague me...
"This is when you realise that the year is halfway done, and you find yourself disappointed by what you have not achieved, again..." Nicely put, your writing flows effortlessly as always.
September is actually the last month of the first half of a Fiscal Year, corporately speaking, October being the start of a new half, so you may be onto something there.
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