Dear August

Does anyone else see doorknobs as safety metaphors? ‘A fist-size piece for different weekdays.’ When an urge to enter into a new space after a fight, or same boredom aggravates, we look for a doorknob.
Am I only one who tries to find meaning in all these stupid things? Because whatever else that is understood by the world, just so plainly skims over my head. I don’t know what the world needs. I don’t know what I need from me but I wish to find an island with no concept of time. So, I’m not running after or running out of anything and could softly say:
Dear August, just don’t leave me yet.

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