Alas! I have failed to reach my target. Yet another year has passed and Seasons remains incomplete. It seems quite appropriate, however, that I should fall short again as it mirrors Evelyn's attempt at living life better. Again and again she tries, yet something always seems to get in the way of her triumph. I suppose this highlights the fact that every morning when we wake up, we start again. We have a clean slate, a clear playing field, a choice to make. Unfortunately for Evelyn, the choice just always seems too hard to make, or rather I should say, the
good choice.
Left or right, I always choose backwards.
The furniture doesn't seem to care
And neither do the synapses.
Though my heart does rattle,
Deep, like the booming of a drum
And I begin to wonder of myself.
The thoughts they bring anxiety,
Which quickly turn to dry lungs.
But then it all passes like a snow flake,
Safely I settle to the ground.
My mind finds peace,
Ready to make the same mistake twice.
