...might help to smooth the unattractive truth...

....but the suburbs have no charms to soothe the restless dreams of youth...

Autumn morning - a real autumn morning. Would that it would be a real autumn day, but small steps, small victories here in the hothouse of the South; start with a genuine autumn morning, and soon the mornings will stretch their cold, bright blessing across the rest of the day, into the night. Oh, I crave the autumn cold - it is gentle to the joints. It is not so gentle to the lungs, but again: small steps, small victories, here in the landscape of my flesh, where dreams of rageless bones and muscles sprout like vines and blossom like cherry trees.

Tonight: to the Road, to the southern part of the state, deeper into the hothouse, in the dark. But it's okay: though I am not usually keen on night-time driving, I am anxious to see my aunt and her family, and it will be better this way. The alternative - fours of sleep, then rising at 3am to be on the road at 4am - is undesirable in all ways and fashions.

Were that I was going alone. But no: must be gracious, must be patient - doing a colleague a favor. Perhaps the night-time sky will be enough to settle her down, to calm her tongue and my nerves. She has yet to understand that outside of work, in the private spaces, I tend to silence. Perhaps she will learn this time. Or perhaps she will sleep this time, and there will be only the surrounding night, a little light music, and me with my thoughts.

The key to survival: the surrounding night, a little light music, and some form of mental entertainment, whether book or good movie or challenging video game or commerce with friends. These are the things that can put the spirit at ease for a little while.