7/30 well past midnight (excerpt from journal)
It is a rather hot and humid night. You can tell autumn is nearing - or at least that we are currently living the inbetween of summer and autumn, hobbling between the line of two seasons; start of August unraveling before us. Recent days have been a mess of halcyon summer days and September thunder storms. I am sitting in the kitchen writing this as a thunderstorm rages out. It has been years since I last beheld such fierce storm with thunder roaring mighty, rain ouring down in gallons and lightning striking the black night skies blue, electric blue. I feel a bit restless with all this. There might have been a time when I deemed storms intriguing and used to watch them in awe sitting on balconies - but that is well in the past for I can just barely bear listening to all this violent noise in the dead of the night which is usually most calm and silent.
———
And this is where my mother woke up and joined me in the kitchen. We drew the curtains and spent the next few hours watching the storm. That feeling I had years ago when we used gather on the balcony to watch the storms seems so distant now. Strange how things change, how I bore of everything that used to excite me. This thought haunts me because I don’t want to lose these feelings, to become someone who is indifferent to everything.
It is a rather hot and humid night. You can tell autumn is nearing - or at least that we are currently living the inbetween of summer and autumn, hobbling between the line of two seasons; start of August unraveling before us. Recent days have been a mess of halcyon summer days and September thunder storms. I am sitting in the kitchen writing this as a thunderstorm rages out. It has been years since I last beheld such fierce storm with thunder roaring mighty, rain ouring down in gallons and lightning striking the black night skies blue, electric blue. I feel a bit restless with all this. There might have been a time when I deemed storms intriguing and used to watch them in awe sitting on balconies - but that is well in the past for I can just barely bear listening to all this violent noise in the dead of the night which is usually most calm and silent.
———
And this is where my mother woke up and joined me in the kitchen. We drew the curtains and spent the next few hours watching the storm. That feeling I had years ago when we used gather on the balcony to watch the storms seems so distant now. Strange how things change, how I bore of everything that used to excite me. This thought haunts me because I don’t want to lose these feelings, to become someone who is indifferent to everything.
What a lovely, bittersweet journal entry, my Lena. xx (You're very lucky that you can tell autumn is over the horizon. It just feels like summer here. Summer, summer, summer. Begone, I say!)
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