Dear July

1

05.07.17

Dear July,

It's been a while.

I'm sitting here at my computer, watching the cursor blink back at me, somewhat uncertain about what to write about.

A lot has changed in the past year. This time last year, I was touring university campuses, with my heart set on New York. Well, I'm not there yet, but I know I will be one day. New York has been pushed aside for the moment, and now I'm dreaming of Europe. What is it about far off places that fascinate me so much? The grass is always greener, or so they say. Well let me tell you, the grass is always greener where you water it. See, it doesn't matter if you planted a whole field of grass, and then only watered one small section of it. It's not enough to plant a seed, you have to nurture it too.

I've planted a lot of dream seeds. But not all of them have grown. Not yet. I want to travel, I want to write about the exotic places I see, people I meet. Life fascinates me. The way people live their lives. I don't know if any of this really makes any sense to you, July. I'll try my hardest to explain.

I am drawn to people, but only as an outsider looking in. A literary anthropologist, if you will. Because what I see and understand is always conveyed in words. Learning through the words of another, or explaining through my own words. Life can be broken down and explained with little formulas and logical reasoning, but the beauty of life, the true depth of what it means to live, cannot be. 'Sometimes we need the poets.' (I'll leave you to figure out who said that.) Poetry is sidelined because people don't understand it's beauty. People look too hard to try to explain what a poem means, and in doing so, they miss the point entirely.

That's a lot for today, so I'll leave you to think it over.

Until Tomorrow,

X