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November



The warmth of the sunny months makes you forget about all your worries. Until a gust of brick wind brings you back to the ground. Real laughs become fake laughs that are so convincing to everyone around, only because you have to show up every day. In November you have to get it together even if you’re not okay.

The aesthetic of the season gives you an excuse to have a good time, and dress up in autumn colors to cover up a plastic smile. You show up not paying attention but you can’t let them know you dozed off, Legs fall asleep and get numb but you don’t get up to shake them off. In November you have to get it together even if you couldn’t make the call.

A bright day in November can’t make up for a whole season of being blind to dark ideas of mistreating yourself when you thought you were finally doing fine. I jump to conclusions all the time in my mind, but the decision isn’t mine in real-time. I buy all the clothes and movies that fit the season to distract myself every evening. I fall for this loophole of old patterns all the damn time! Please tell me November why the fuck why??

Dead leaves and cold air, when I speak I can see my voice in the air. It’s happening… will it be real smooth or will I achoo 🤧. I pick up my school work and drink tea, I’ve never been one for coffee. My tan skin is all gone cause November brings my complexion close to Type 1. Maybe this loophole can be kind of fun? Will I still be in it when the frozen months come? When is it safe to take off my boots and run? Let me tell you November I’m doing just fine, Not alright, not put together but maybe just fine.


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