Inherently Introspective

            This time of the year is inherently more introspective. Which means I’m slightly more unbearable than usual.

            I am saddened by the same old injustices, powerless, adjusting to living with things I can’t change. And I wonder if any of the grievances I experience are new, or if it’s simply just my time to experience them. Somebody did say something once, about history rhyming…

It’s seven in the morning, and I’m already drunk with melancholy.

It’s just the time of the year, I say, because that excuse is easy and close by. As if I’m not usually claustrophobically histrionic! But I let it slide, there are worse things to be.

Indeed, there are worse things to be.