A strange melancholy pervades me to which I hesitate to give the grave and beautiful name of sadness. In the past the idea of sadness always appealed to me, now I am almost ashamed of its complete egoism. I have known boredom, regret, and at times remorse, but never sadness. Today something envelops me like a silken web, enervating and soft, which isolates me."
Autumn is not my favourite season. And right on cue, autumn has started in Australia, with a sudden drop in temperature and sunshine which could only be described as hesitant. I've just taken in the wheelie bins after this morning's garbage collection, and am debating with myself whether I should make myself another cup of coffee, read a book, go back to bed, or do all three. Bonjour Tristesse indeed!
