"Ah! there is nothing like staying at home for real comfort. Nobody can be more devoted to home than I am.”
-Jane Austen
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what do they put in october and november that makes them the most ungodly mental breakdown psychosis inducing months imaginable. what are they storing in the orange leaves and generally grey drowsy atmosphere
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"Autumn is my season, dear. It is, after all, the season of the soul."
– Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Violet Dickinson written c. July 1907
"I notice Autumn is more the season of the soul than of nature."
– Friedrich Nietzsche
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After the keen still days of September, the October sun filled the world with mellow warmth...The maple tree in front of the doorstep burned like a gigantic red torch. The oaks along the roadway glowed yellow and bronze. The fields stretched like a carpet of jewels, emerald and topaz and garnet. Everywhere she walked the color shouted and sang around her...In October any wonderful unexpected thing might be possible.
Elizabeth George Speare, The Witch of Blackbird Pond
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Under October's calm sky, a quiet river flows, like a peaceful dream. Soft rain falls gently, like hushed secrets, covering the water in mist. Children play by the riverbank, forgetting their names for a while, lost in their games. Eagles soar gracefully in the sky, like nature's beautiful dancers. Trees stand still, leaves hanging in the quiet moment. Nature creates a peaceful painting where time slows down. We find comfort as autumn's beauty mixes with the gentle rain, becoming part of the river's story, embraced by October's lovely spell.
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"I like the cold, but not when it's freezing. I like sweaters and warm drinks. I like the cold mornings, when it's so early the sun hasn't risen and I'm by a window and it's slightly frosted over. Then the sun comes up and the world is a mix of green and gold, the summer's breath is still there, but not quite. Oh sweet October."
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🍂🌅,
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poem written at 7:30am on october 11, 2022
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October 19
I remember slow walks in golden corridors
Every turn and curve reveal long sought dreams
Not far from town, bustling shoulder season antics
It felt a thousand miles away
I remember where I was
when the quaking aspens whispered
October etched on my soul
Dreaming of glittering gold
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orange october comes knocking in the middle of the night -
i wake up and all the leaves have fallen to the ground.
suddenly the sky feels like red velvet and the air smells like
smoke. my heart grows heavier as days traipse from autumn
to winter, the morning light growing dim the closer savings
day comes. i bid the moon goodnight and wake alone, in the
middle of the forest. i run with the morning mist for a while
until it evaporates, along with every memory i’ve had of the
summer sun.
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“There between the curtains was the October night, calm and lovely, with a star or two caught in the yellow trees.”
— Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own.
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"You are different."
"How so?"
"Look at everyone else. They are merely words while you are poetry."
-Timothy Joshua
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but in october two years back, i knew not the way you'd consume me, had no idea that i'd be writing letters & throwing them away. not a single clue that my eyes will betray the beauty of october & autumn to look at you, or that i'd use october's love(the wilted leaves) to mark my own.
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romantic mood: reaching into your chest and ripping out your heart
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