tURN phOEnIx turN

This thought comes from a poem that I was almost able to write back in January which entirely defeats the statement made by the poem. It was about how in the different seasons of the year I was either able to produce coherent and insightful thoughts and communicate them to other people and in other seasons I was not. Winter and Spring are my seasons of production whereas Fall and especially Summer seem to be marked by incredible silence. I should have been able to finish that poem in January. There is something about the scorching sun and aridity which leaves my mind empty. I have been heat stroked 3 times this week, oh how I hate earning money! All this to say that I most likely won't be writing online much this summer as I will need to use this season to retreat to my ignorant cogitation, my dark brooding, my complete mental anahiliation...