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I'm in the mood to write tonight. It's been a long time since I've felt this sort of lost feeling. I can't quite explain it, but if it could be described as the weather, it would be a cool November night. Not quite winter, but no longer summer either. When I think of writing I always go back to those days. Maybe it was because I was unhappy or maybe it was because I was bored, but writing seemed to come easily in those months. I guess there was a lot going on, and a lot going on meant that my brain was active and in use and maybe just maybe that's why I wrote as much as I did. But now it's summer and it feels like November and I feel lost and confused yet still so normal at the same time. It's late, or early I guess I could say, and I know that this feeling, as usual, will pass by the morning, but right now it's here, so I will write. 

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Something I wrote last month that doesn't make any sense at all but complete sense at the exact same time.