September 7 – September 13
Short. And brief. Writing this now, it’s rather different as my memory’s as clouded as the fog itself setting into the city. Maybe because the past week was pretty stagnant, more of the same.
But all the same too, autumn comes for the Bay. Quite sooner than expected, forgetting that an uncomfortable Indian Summer should take place beforehand from September to October. That’s something new, if not delightful on its own. And with it shall mark a Second Coming, a wave of feeling alone as the seasons turn the page to a set of actual celebrated holidays, and layers built in both the clothes worn and emotions shown to block each other out from how isolated we feel nearing winter. I like these quiet hours for now, but soon enough a sudden realization beneath this heavy marine layer will show that I am still a constant, small, uncertain, and alone young girl in this place.
So autumn marks change– it’s up to me to determine what change that will be, and I’ve decided on for the better. Take up cycling classes, even if it means I get up at 5 in the morning– it’ll be better. Get on a new bus line to meet up with your sister at that unfamiliar sushi bar on Geary Boulevard– for the better. And see a new neighborhood in a new city that happens to be Sacramento, rich in old trees and the air stinging of familiar heat and smoked by the treacherous fires pouring from Lake County– and it will still be better than another Saturday night cruising Polk Gulch. I’m even learning to pace myself, saying “no” to less wine– that is, when I can’t afford it.
NOTE TO SELF: Immediate to always fit wine into the budget.
See? Positives. All change in favor of a more fulfilling, self-rewarding Paris.
As the heat thins out and the chills of foggy days grow thick, so shall this outer shell of little P, hardened as to never let any doubts or vulnerabilities reimpose themselves on me during this natural transition.