There's something so beautiful about the cold that I don't quite have the knowledge or skill to articulate in word. Something about how sterile it is, how it can so effortlessly still our ever-chaotic mother nature. How it manages to stir such a primordial desire to fight and survive when I'm exposed to its grandeur. Autumn with her dazzling colors and aromas has always been my favorite, but Demeter has me under her spell as of late, and I'm conflicted on which I believe embodies my perfect state of nature

Been a while but we're so back

Feeling like this rn

It is getting better and I don't know how I feel about it