october bleeds a melancholy spell, you and i we breathe the rose scented letters of our coming day, content with that quintessential pride of being remembered. are we really? and how? how do we want to be remembered? october, you have caused me a life to live, and when i fail, you are to blame for giving me a life of failures.

merman, daddy, we are but the puppets of dear october. complicated casts..

october, you produced such diverse individuals, yet a family of bonded creatures. i hate and love your products. i feel with them, i feel for them, i want to feel towards them but i can't.

october, i love you for giving me something. but i hate you for what you gave me.