Random Tuesday chat, Again

So I took out my imaginary friend for a walk. We stared at the street lamp, stared at the corpses of leaves on the ground, I showed him my favourite bench so we can comfortably stare at busy people passing by (they never noticed it because we're so good). You know, we were having great time and all.

ha

Autumn is a rich celebration of welcoming death and decay to take over the world. Autumn is balancing on the edge of depression as a weather descriptor, and the peak of nature's mature glory and fruitfulness, it's the most decorated and the least promising season. Cheesy as it sounds, I feel some deep connection between us, as if I already knew something about the day I will die. People who die in autumn should become a foggy morning. All of us should, probably. I wouldn't regret dying if I knew I could still amaze someone at least once in a while.

So now, son, we're heading towards the end of this month. We're in the middle of this season, while this year is already at the doorstep, bending down to put the shoes on before leaving, smiling at its own back pain.
_
And here's something I leave for myself to learn and remember.
There's a narrator to each fairytale. But it doesn't matter how soft and nice his voice is, or how gently he holds a book, he is not a part of a fairytale himself. He just reads it out for you. He might even not believe in that fairytale. And that's not a sin, even though he might be a sinner. He is just a bulb, not the light. Do not mix it. Stay sober, and do not invite the narrator to join the fairytale, you don't need him there. He can take you home, but you can't try to take him on stage. Everything and everyone has their own place. And that's good. Good enough.

wow
I don't know. I'll try to draw something. I can't, but I will ignore this. Too shameful.