Fall ing

Out of the chest is mother's halloween assortment. Pumpkins, black cats, candles. On the desk beside the bed she leaves pieces for my costume, collected as I work. Also, licorice to commemorate hard effort, newspaper articles from the race. I've hardly seen her in the last few weeks, though they know I'm still their roommate by the fast departing bread loaf.

This morning, coming down from the high point of the city, the fog fell just beneath the tips of green evergreens and the sun was bloodorange. Fog forever feels like san francisco. On the walk to work, the leaves were every color and shifting. I keep remembering this memory from Western and he came up to me, grabbed my hand, said, "I have to show you something," and led me to that part in the trail where the trees curved in and the ground was covered, the colors remarkable. I remembered thinking, "If we ever do, this is where it should be." I'd never felt someone feel the beauty of the moment, as I did, in that moment, so suddenly.

Took a run along the bay at lunch break, where every old couple didn't hold hands, but walked with their arms swinging in tune. I craved autumnal coffee; ordered a pumpkin spice and ginger latte, the foam shaped as a leaf, the barista lackadaisical, lazy, but the giver of the warmth I craved.

At the office, Adi Keshava proclaims that there are 3 things that we have no control over. 1. When/where we are born 2. When/where we die 3. When/where we find love. Talks about all of us ghosts, thinking we're living life, following the pathless path, which is self-deception. Contaminated by information. I agree. What fails the most? Success.