Like a hungry bear in the autumn (new beginnings).

So it's that time of year again.

The vivid cyan sky of summer starts to become a distant memory, deciding instead to settle on a calmer, paler version of its former self. A giant sapphire blackboard once pristine, yet now clouded with subtle chalky swirls, erased memories reminiscent of its past.

'Death comes' as Mary Oliver once wrote 'like the hungry bear in the autumn .. and takes all the bright coins from his purse'. Once familiar saturated shades to which we are now accustomed begin to dull and are replaced with darker, yet no less intense metallic incarnations of bronze and gold.

And for another year we say goodbye to hot, sleepless nights and uncomfortable car journeys - no longer forced to endure the oppressive humidity, as the heavy August atmosphere finally gives way to the crisp scents of autumn.

Yet despite this time of year signalling the end for many, my journey into the final year of university is just about to begin and I have every intention of making sure that this blog documents it accurately. Currently my life lacks any sort of future plan and if forced to predict even the smallest of outcomes for a year's time, I can honestly say that, with hand on heart, I would find it a struggle.

I am determined to use this coming year as time to fully prepare myself for the big, wide world that I'm about to dive head-first into. I have little clue as to where I am headed and no idea as to where I want to be but I have decided to take each day as it comes. Traditionally misdirection, indecision and lack of ambition are thought of as being quite negative traits, however they do provide great stimuli for writing and for that I am thankful.

It may not be interesting and it may not be humourous. It might be quite whiny and overly dramatic. It could be profound and unnecessarily pensive ...

But I am the author and this is my story.

Discontent perfection (or something like it).

There is now a scientific term for those that fall in to the same bracket as myself - a 'discontented perfectionist'.

I say 'scientific' when actually I concluded it myself a mere twenty minutes ago but even so, I think it fits the bill quite nicely. Pretty impressive considering there isn't a psychology degree in sight.

Take this blog for instance. Those of you that belong to the dedicated portion of my readership who have taken the time to follow and check back regularly, probably just put my multiple prolonged absences (if noticed) down to lack of time, energy or most likely forgetfulness. Well stop the presses, I have shocking news; it's actually none of the above.

These long summer months away from university have actually given me bags of time to fill doing whatever I wish, yet ironically I find myself doing even less. Every night as I sit at my desk with every intent of writing an entry, I instead find myself staring longingly at the screen unable to find words relating to anything or anyone that I may have encountered throughout the previous few days. Anything that I do come up with is usually quickly dismissed on the grounds of 'no-one in their right mind would ever want to read that'.

It doesn't stop there either. Whether it be in conversation, driving, getting dressed or even something minuscule such as taking the dog for a walk, I find myself succumbing to the whole 'projection of self image' and it scares me just how many of my decisions are based on this these days. What happened to doing things for me? I want that back.

Besides that, I guess I just haven't quite grasped the idea of blogging/writing for myself just yet. I care far too much about what other people (like your good selves) think and that's a dangerous mindset that I desperately need to slip out of, especially when I find it taking over other parts of my life too.

We are all living our own lives, judging others, afraid of what everyone else thinks of us. Maybe by starting to live for ourselves, we can break that circle and banish a little more fear from the world in the process.

Well, that's the theory anyway and even though it's easier said than done, I have every intention of trying it out.

Backing up.

It's on still summer evenings such as this, when the sun begins to fade and the gnats begin their itchy assault on the flesh, that I really begin to contemplate things ... to try and make sense of things.

With the air thick and perfectly calm and the sky aglow with a fresh spectrum of vivid hues, the idea of sorting through my usual jumble of mismatched thoughts no longer seems such a daunting prospect.

So as I sit and attempt to apply order to my poorly mapped out life, imagine my shock when I suddenly realise that my mind seems far more concerned, not with the task in hand, but with how I'll be able to word the situation in a blog entry. What a sorry state of affairs.

It did, however, set me thinking as to why it is that I appear to be so obsessed with writing about every single little thing. It really is true. Besides my handwritten journals and Moleskines, if there's a website online that requires any degree of wordplay, you can bet anything that I'm a member. I have this blog, a Livejournal, Tumblr, Twitter and even a Vox. Do I need all of these online outlets? No I don't, but that doesn't help me to answer the reason as to why I feel the need to sign up for them all.

So after a good thirty minutes of pondering my innermost thoughts, I came to a conclusion that deep down, I'd always known - I'm scared to death of forgetting.

It explains everything; the way I have to blog/journal when nothing of great significance has even happened, how I always ramble and go off on the most mundane of tangents, how I feel that I have to repeat what I've written on every single site in some way or another - it's all there.

It's as if I'm frightened that all of these small memories are going to get pushed further and further to the back of my ever-expanding mind until finally they are forced out, retrievable only through these written reminders.

Maybe it comes from the years of working at the nursing home, seeing old folk go from their wise, sharp-witted temperaments on arrival to senile shells of their former selves. From listening to them struggle with forgotten details as they try and recount stories of their past, stories that they are so proud of, yet unable to fully recall. I hear my Grandparents tell stories of their young past and though I know that I'll always remember the main events in my life, it scares me to think that so much of it will remain forgotten. After all, the memory is like a sieve: large chunks will be caught by the mesh but smaller particles will pass through. I'm just trying to catch those particles before they disappear forever.

I suppose I subconsciously treat blogs/journals as a kind of hard-drive, backing up all of those precious memories, ready for the day when the system fails.

That may sound slightly macabre but it'll happen one day; one day when I'm old and grey, whilst attempting to recall my driving-lesson escapades, the system will fail ...

But at least I'll be able to safely say that, in some semi-permanent form or another, 'it's okay, I have it all backed-up'.

Embrace the Moment.

My philosophy in life is to seek out the good in any situation, no matter how bad your spirits may be at the time. That way, you can thank the bad for helping you find the good and in the process waste a lot less time feeling angry. After all, without the negative in life, the positive just wouldn't seem so special. Some would even argue it's existence.

So after waking up (yet again) at 5:30am with a cramping stomach, I threw open the curtains ready for the morning sunrise.

Looking out at the glowing sky as the sun cast golden patterns of dappled light across the bedspread, I soon forgot the reason I was even awake …

I was just glad that I was.

Thank you stomach cramps and insomnia.

Anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain.

The summer days have been stifling lately and though I am a fan of the heat (after all, we only get it for a few weeks a year so we shouldn't moan whilst it is here), its always nice to have a welcome break from the suffocating humidity.

Our prayers were answered tonight in the form of steady rainfall. It started here in Cambridgeshire/Fenland at about 7 o'clock and it hasn't stopped since. I've been listening to the soft pitter patter all night and I have to say, I feel so soothed and relaxed right now. I've been in quite a philosophical/reflective mood for several days and tonight I've finally been able to settle down, listen to some new music and do a bit of writing. It's amazing what a little bit of peace and quiet with accompanying rainfall can do ay?

Despite it being 1:30am, I decided to embrace my insomnia and threw on my coat to take a few photos in the empty streets. The falling rain together with the orange glow from the street lamps made everything look so different and strangely beautiful......

..... and though I don't profess to be a great photographer, that's exactly what I like to take photos of: different, strange and beautiful.