Annar in the Inbetweens

Long hours of the day that somehow bleed into summer—where the light is always a familiar gold. The air is of a heavy heat which you breathe in and afeel every inch of this atmospheric summer whistle through your throat into your chest in a warm and shallow pathway. Yes, today is one of those days where you can feel summer months comfort you upon your disappointments, promising to help you find what you’ve lost, and rubbing your back as an avid compromiser for love. The days and nights you have waited for—missed during the Fall; yearned for through the winter; and begged for in the Spring. Summer is when you enter a new world that rotates along no specific axis and revolves around no true light; a world which does not co-exist within a society, but as a steady, streaming rhythm of colors and lines. And in this rhythm, you can interpret your own pulses that drowned in beats; shades of hues and length of lines. This rhythm is simply our true Selves innocently hoping we are relieved from expectations of satisfying this unpleasant world. A world which blesses you through some sort of onerous form of deceit and later drives you mad. Summer is an era to hide from this anguish and explore seclusion to find the most real, yet completely intangible form of life: ourselves. Where are you?