Summer will end

Summer will end and the leaves will turn again.
I favourited those words on Twitter the other day thinking that winter was some vague concept, especially in this subtropical province that hardly knows what winter is.
I'm slowly sipping on a glass of feisty, fruity wine. Thoroughly enjoyable.
Last night was the first time this summer that l pulled the duvet around me against the cool then cold of the night. It was wonderful. Normally with both windows open and the fan on, I sleep naked, with nothing over my body, nor on my skin.
Leaving gym - I went there for my sanity, it was an intensive day on the couch in front of my iPad - I veered off into Umhlanga. To break what little routine I have.
My life currently appears stagnant, even to me. Flat and squalid in the doldrum waters of right now I'm sensing that I won't be let go until I consciously change tack. Forever.
Oh nothing major; merely facing my single greatest fear. Commiting to following a dream- the dream of my life - which is of course unattainable. Certain death then. Of the soul; I wink.
Umhlanga Rocks village has a Joburg feel about it. Tonight I welcome it.
Chicken and rice, low GI bread,  and salad. At home.
Dreams, well at least mine, will entail drops of blood appearing, excruciatingly, on my forehead.
That sure beats being the living dead.
"Please bring me the bill; thank you."