I have lately realized that spring gives me anxiety.
The explosion of light and color, even though in reality gradual, feels like opening a door and walking into a place where an orchestra is in full swing, with every instrument in action.
While fall, though melancholy, reminds me of gently nodding off to sleep, spring throbs.
I can only take so much of it in at a time.
Everything seems to be on the edge of something.
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