The beginning of my vacation, and the end of my summer work. The end of summer itself? I woke up with the sun bright on the sky, but walking outdoors, I felt there was no warmth in the air. Clouds soon broke in and covered the sun. Even colder. I wanted to do so many things, but I feel weak. I want to collect my spirit high but I feel tired. One more week. Then the school beginns. My friends talk of inspiration and intelectual challenge. I feel exhausted and it hasn't even begun. Will our car be sold then? Do I have to bike there in the break of dawn with rain falling and gloomy shadows peeking at me from behind the trees?

I Want to plant fragrant roses in my garden. I want to watch the clematis vine wind themself around the fence and cover it with flowers. I see the thistles grow, seeping into my garden instead. Angry thorns. Unpleasant. Nasty. Vicious?

I made an atemt at being my old me, to climb the moutains and explore the caves. Not even then am I content. I should be vibrant and happy, bursting and wild as the northern wind! I used to be. Why am I not any more? I don't know. I am priviliged and I should feel it, yet I am ungrateful and melancholy. I dwell on what is not mine and I linger in thoughts on how things used to be. I think I met a crossroad and I turned and walked with strong stides away, but my inner self didn't follow. I fear maybe I left it behind, and what if it never catch up?