February gloom.

I very much liked to write something today. Something that perhaps express how i feel about time or the lack thereof. Perhaps some lyrics of some song. Or a quote from somewhere.

Why does it always happen in febuary. Last time i had to leave, a long 4 years ago, it was also a Febuary. And i read through the posts i had then, to try get a grasp of why am i feeling unfeeling right now, why i am ready, yet unprepared. Hopeful, yet uneager. And i found little. The faces were unchanged, those at the dinner then was and will be with me till i board the plane, and even then, remain. The places are still there, the fields and the houses.

And after much pondering, wondering i still am of the changes and nots.

I striked it all outnot because i think i've found the answer. But i believe that it all is irrelevant now.

That all will be obvious when everything's done.

I hate Februaries.

Till next time.