I'm living my life by the smell of the seasons

There is something about different times of the year that causes me to feel sort of strange. I've been thinking about this for years, because the way that seasons make me feel always makes me want to write. It's weird, but every fall, in that time when the air gets crisp and the whole world turns gold, I get this feeling in my heart like I shoudl be somewhere else. It doesn't matter where, I just feel Like I should be travelling. Going on adventures. Finding new things that are interesting in this huge world we live in. In my mind, the best way to express the feeling si to call it the wanderlust. It's a little difficult to capture the idea behind it, and I've tried, oh lord, you know I've tried. Any feeling strong enough I will try to capture in writing. The key to my writing, you see, is that any story I write, i try to pour a little bit of myself into. Take, for example, the story I'm writing right now (almost literaly as we speak - assuming of course that this is a conversation). As with most things I write, there is no real title, not yet, and when I do pick one, it'll be arbitrary. This story, isn't related to that fall feeling I get, no, this one is attached to that feeling I get in the spring time - the feeling like I should be in love with somebody. I know this post isn't flowing well, I'll be honest, I'm a little drunk (there was a suana party, beers were had, high temperature and humidity - it all goes to your head, you see). Sometimes, in the spring, i get this feeling like there should be a significant other in my life. and I have to admit, it's hitting me hard this year for some reason. I haven't felt like this for years and years - not since grade 11, in fact (that'd be the spring of 2002). A good way to deal with these baseless emotions are to ground them somewhere - so I took a real experience I once had - metting an old friend on a bus from toronto to home and asked myself: what if? What if i were somebody different, and so was she? In essence, what if we were both two completely different people. So, although this story is based loosely in the true event of running into somebody on the bus home from teh city, the parralells to my life end there. To somehow exorcise the misplaced emotions, I write about some people who aren't real, and how they lived through a relationship that, although seemingly okay, the reader knows is doomed to failure (It's a retrospective, you see).
The thing is, unlike most stories I write about thsi sort of subect (such as Oh Shit or only words), the ending isn't as sad as one might expect. The truth is, in the end of this one, although there is no romantic love to be had between teh characters, there is indeed a resolution that is somewhat more cheerful than abandonment and loss of love. Trust me. It's not a bad deal altogether. there was another point, but I'm at a loss as to what it was (Mike and I had to deal temporarily with a drunk girl) so yes...

that was my rambling about what I'm writing about these days.

Oh yeah! It's all about the connections. This new story I'm writing, well, it takes what some might have suspected already and solidfies it into a cohesive unit - all of these stories are set in the same fictional town. So, this allows me to bring Sven Reid Thompson, Gordon Matthews, Edwin and this new guy (named John) into the same movie theatre at the same time. Oh the terrible fun of recycling characters and having them all exist in the same arena! Hurrah!