Current mood.

Is not too bright. I think this picture reflects it perfectly. I was trying out my then-new camera a while ago and as I was browsing through my albums tonight, I realized that it mirrors my present state. I should probably get used to it by now, yet it's the same thing every year around this time. Even though early fall is my favorite season, late October feels different. Yes, it is still warm outside, the trees are beautiful and the air is crisp. Yet, somehow you can feel the life coming to its end. Those bright tree colors are omens of what's to come - bare, lifeless branches. It's not here yet, but you can sense it coming. Perhaps this is the whole point - for life to end, just to be born again come spring. And still, every year I am sad to see it go and reluctant to actually let it go. Unfortunately, I don't have much of a choice. The reality is, it seems, to accept it and hope that it happens for a reason. Although I would be interested in finding out what that reason is... But I guess not until later. Sometimes I catch myself yearning for the past time, at least for what I can remember. I feel like I am holding on to those precious moments of summer and warm weather as it gets closer to winter. And hoping for it to come back. I am waiting...

Winter night (a poem).

This is my favorite poem, hands down. It was not me who've written it, but I made a few futile attempts to translate it in order to share it with the rest of the world. So, without a further ado... here goes... You be the judge, I did my best to relay the emotion behind the text.

Snowstorms blowing everywhere throughout the land,
The candle burned on the table, the candle burned.
As swarms of midges in the summer fly toward the flame
The snowflakes from the yard swarmed toward the window pane.
The blizzard molded rings and arrows on the glass
The candle burned up on the table, the candle burned.
The shadows on illuminated ceiling cast,
Arms, legs and destinies, all fatefully crossed.
Two slippers dropping to the floor with mild tap
Wax tears from the night light dripping on a dress.
And all was lost in snow haze, gray-haired and white,
The candle shined up on the table, the candle shined.
Mild wind blew on the candle from the corner
Temptation heat, as if an angel, raised its wings
Crosswise.
It snowed all month long that winter,
The candle burned up on the table, with a hint.
Blunt...

Late as hell, so bedtime now...