I don't know what it is about this time of the year, but it just makes me look at my ThunderJournal and think "I got nothin'." And the thing is, I'm pretty indifferent to having nothin'. I wonder if this is the case for other ThunderJournalists who have been at this craft for years and can recognize such cycles in their own creative processes.
I've also noted a general decline in ThunderJournal readership this time of year, with an uptick beginning again come December. I think writers and readers alike just kind of push away from the table for awhile, too full to eat another bite, and sit back to digest and take a nap.
Point is, I don't have much to say right now, and I don't particularly care; but I'll be back in prolific form at some point--the cycle dictates as much.
I recently learned, via my Brazillian Jiu-Jitsu classes, that one of the most difficult and painful exercises ever devised is something call "DUCK WALKING."
Honestly, my legs are on fire today.
I'm not a person particularly prone to nocturnal astronomical gazing, but on Saturday evening, at around 8:40 p.m., I happened to be outside adjusting the blinking Halloween "eyes" on a shrubbery near the entrance to my house, when I looked up and saw something completely amazing.
Just below the constellation Cassiopeia, I saw two incredibly bright stars. I mean, they were the brightest stars in the sky, no doubt. At first, I mistook them as stars in Orion's belt, before I saw Cassiopeia just above and realized Orion's nowhere near Cassiopeia. Just as I was processing the realization of what I was witnessing, the two stars just faded away and basically disappeared.
As far as I could tell, the two stars were pretty much stationary, so they likely weren't sattelites, so I briefly entertained the thought I had witnessed an entirely unlikely duo supernova.
Whatever it was, it was unbelievably cool.
