Fiery sun flaring in the sky Don’t consume yourself too much For you might die from exhaustion.
Each time I move droplets of sweats cascade from my forehead and neck, an unbearable heat has taken over the weather and the breeze and warmth… this summer oppresses. This January’s sun is a pitiless fiery creature, whose flaring tongues are thirsty for burning and scorching, where not even the heavy rainfalls of these recent days have been able to lull its fire… on the contrary, water and heat married to become uncomfortable humidity, and where most of the time I feel that I’m living in the den of a dragon that’s breathing fire.
While writing this blogpost the fan on my writing desk is right in front of my face, but it doesn’t cool the air around. The heat persists; humidity is a strong thing that mingles with every bit of air that circulates in the atmosphere, giving birth to hot breeze and frightening thunderstorms, but to also floods, sadly😔.
I sweat a lot inside of the gut of this furnace — good for burning the junks that have accumulated inside of my system during the let-gos of December… but thing that’s very bad for my grey matter that melts away under overheating, and my energy that’s rapidly consumed. Under the influence of heatwaves my body and mind act strangely; high temperatures have tendencies to put me to sleep, to keep me in a lethargic state, I’m slow and bored when the ambiance is so heavy, my metabolism completely slows down, I’m crushed under the fiery breath of heat waves, and my witty mind lags. I also have trouble remembering things and words, I’m slow to react, I’m slow at writing. I guess that’s why the most memorable murder scenarios and rise in strange tension in films and books, like the one in the Great Gatsby, happen during heatwaves, and that demons and devils like to live near burning things…for the heat, it really screws the head.
When hotness prevails, mirage, illusions, and craziness also step into this boiling concoction, and where even my dreams seem to be tainted with all the colours of the frustrating weather that accompanies dog days. I like warm summer seasons, summertime that’s filled with the fragrance of holidays and relaxations in green spaces, the type of ambiance that’s flowery and lively; but when that tropical summer hits hard, and that the sun burns like stoves, I wish that I could escape to a winter shelter that’s filled with snow or ice, a place settled under a gloomy sky filled of clouds that trap the scorching sunlight.
Eiravel 