Summer is both the hottest as well as the coldest time of year to me. The sun is glaring, the air is thick with humidity, and the baby blues skies are sprinkled with fluffy white clouds. Of course, this is all good and dandy, but my issue with summer is the absence it creates in my heart. This is entirely due to the fact that I am a high school student. Summer rolls in and for the first week of my vacation, I celebrate and attend parties because I don't have to worry about school work and teachers for a few months. The downside to this is that, while everyone else is going on vacations and enjoying themselves, I am at home in the blistering heat, suffering through what may be the toughest writers block in the history of literature.

When I have better things to do like finish an essay for English class or solve math problems from a textbook, I am at my creative best. Ideas are flowing left and right through my mind and just as they begin to blossom into a potentially interesting project, I must smother them and bottle them away to the back of my mind so that I may focus on school. Now that I'm on holiday, I have all the time in the world to write and write to my heart's content, but I find that I just can't. The pen and paper are there, but something's missing. It's the creative spark that I so foolishly suppressed earlier. It's at moments like this when I curse my logically thinking former self for allowing myself to forget any great ideas I might have had.

In the end, I will do as I always end up doing. I know it shouldn't hurt, yet it pains me to do so. I write nonsense until something arises. This is when I find my self lost in aimless thought. I write until I can't write anymore. Then I review and refine to the point where I become sick of the project and abandon it completely.

Hot weather, cold state of mind.