September
Summer didn’t fade into September the way it usually does. No golden leaves, no gentle transition. It just stood up, took one last look, and took a massive shit on everyone’s head. Everything’s slowly getting sick and I’m hating autumn with everything I’ve got. But there’s still September to get through, and I need to know what’s actually worth my time.
Outdoor cinema if I can still catch something. The new phone before everyone has one and it’s boring. Some quiet moment for all the terrible things that happened a decade ago. Sleeping in parks eating ice cream. Bars for once instead of clubs. Loving something new just to feel something. Drum and bass when you finally get it. Dancing in a way that feels like not pretending. Glitter. Curls. Britney Spears. Terry Richardson. Indian summer. Your mom. A new plant that you keep alive instead of killing. Writing something that matters. Keeping your clothes on in bed sometimes because it’s hotter that way. Just pausing for no reason.
September feels like possibility even though I know better. It’s the month that makes this promise: next month, next season, next year—something will finally click. I’ll want different things. I’ll be different. The same bullshit will matter less. None of that is true, but September is very convincing in its lies.
And then there’s all the shit that comes with it. Tuition bills. Bug bites that swell into these weird grotesque things. The people who exhaust you. Standing on tables in bars like you invented it. Ordering overpriced cocktails in the wrong places. The ones who stayed too long on one obsession. Fruit flies in your kitchen. Slow internet when you need it fast. Warm sushi. Breaking up with someone over Twitter because you couldn’t face the phone. Google+ pretending to be a thing. Blackberries still existing somehow. People who won’t stop going on about how superior printed words are. People who try too hard and ruin the vibe. The older men who won’t stop jerking off to girls in bikinis. Empty heads. The same shit you hated last year and the year before that.
By the time October hits most of this is forgotten anyway. But September is the month where I think something’s going to change. It never does, but I think it anyway.