As I walk by, I run my fingers alound the brick wall, smooooth BUMP smooooth BUMP smooooth BUMP and the boy on the corner dances to the music on my headphones. Does the world dance to the music on my headphones? The sun glows ever fainter and fainter orange earlier and earlier in the afternoon and the rose bushes droop under the weight of so many flowers and the clouds roll by overhead tumbling over themselves as I wait for the bus and the world says, "Yes."

Something has happened. Things are falling. Barriers are coming down. Filters are not filtering. The leaves are turning and the skies are grey and mist and everything is so beautiful. I just want to walk and laugh and play, but I have things to do, bills to pay, plants to water, houses to clean, homework to do, languages to learn. I want to meander in the streets and think about big tree roots buckling sidewalks and swing on swings and smell the sweet sweet damp and maybe go to Canada (the real Canada) and just maybe...

Is there such a thing as fall fever?

It's all so much, and I am letting it in. It's all too much. Everything is beautiful and wondrous and hard and mean and terrible. I am so tired. I let the world in because it is amazing but I cannot handle it. But if I block it out so I can do what I need to do, I may as well kill myself because I am wasting my time. I'm not interested in that; there's just too much beauty to abandon or waste. What to do?

For a week I'd like to wander. I want to ride my bike. I want to trudge through the sticky leaf muck on the ground. I want to explore the streets. I want to go along the railroad tracks. I want to walk that labyrinth again. I want to walk up Balch Creek and hide in the Witch House and read Zoe Trope and listen to United Future Organization. I want to hike further through Forest Park and swing on the vines and nearly smash myself into silly little bits. I want to blow bubbles off bridges. I want to ride TriMet to all corners of its reach and further out on other busses to Salem and Salmon Creek and Tillamook and listen to *Silver Mt. Zion* and stare out the window at the trees flying by and just soak it all in.

I don't want to do homework or go to class or mail taxes or return library books pay my grandmother's bills or my bills or water the plants or mop the fucking floor. Even if just for a week.

And also I really want to go to the Canada. And soon.