Read, reblog, and resonate!
What I love about the months is that they don't actually mean jack shit. What's the difference between August and September? Nothing. The name, that's all. But they're all blank. They're all in my future. Which means I can try again and again and again, and it doesn't matter if I succeed in October or February because they're all the same. They're all empty, waiting to be lived. I always get to try again.