Leapdragon 2016 - Aron Hsiao Was Here

Fall?  §

I love fall.

I associate it with piles and piles of musty leaves strewn across uncut lawn, with old-fashioned multi-panel windows with white paint and plaster separating panes of glass, with pumpkins and white sheet ghosts and wind, and with memory and identity and love.

I wish I could simply fall into a giant pile of pumpkins and leaves and lay there for days and days and days until the stench of sweat and unbathing threatens to spontaneously combust.

I wish I could eat a hundred turkeys until I become the icon for turkey genocide.

I wish I could play pavement football with the crowd I used to play with in fifth grade until all of us were covered from head to foot in blood and sweat.

I wish I could spend the season teaching my own children how to winterize an Ethan Allen house.

I don’t have any children.

I haven’t played pavement football in decades.

I live in New York.

I don’t give a shit.

Fall is a state of mind, much more than it is a season.

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