“What’s your favorite season?” – A lot of people tend to ask this question as something interesting about the person, like “what’s your favorite color?” I never really know which season is my favorite. I used to love the winter, because it seemed more romantic for me, and I hate the heat in the middle east. Unfortunately it rarely snows where I live (once every decade). I hated last winter – maybe because I was depressed? But I didn’t enjoy it and I thought it’s pointless to wait for the cold. I don’t admire the summer because it’s so freaking hot. But then there’s the spring which is really nice and lovely. But the awesome, well I think it’s a mystery. I always wonder, when the Autumn comes, will it be so cold this winter? And there is something dark in the autumn, the days become shorter and it takes a while to get used to them. And finally I get the chance to get my jackets to wear them at nights. Then my Birthday comes and I feel awkward about it. And of course, school starts, and it’s even more awkward. I don’t know, there’s something intense about this season, and I always love seeing pictures of the autumn – orange trees, not orange the fruit, but orange the color. It’s so cool.
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I write for pleasure and pain. I dance with the waves of my anger, and let my colors cry out of agony.