Monday, February 17, 2014

Blizzards, Cold, Ennui

The feeling of being trapped without my life was only increased by the weather. The constant pulsing, winter season that had trapped everything under a white blanket of cold and frost. One of the most exciting things I'd done in days was shovel down the walkway to my house to remove the snow to the point where it was possible to actually walk without slipping on snow.

Today the weather kicked up a wicked wind and six new inches. The path that had been so meticulously shoveled a day ago was buried again. It was like a metaphor for my hopes of escape: every time I thought I had managed to dig my way out, it was back again.

I needed something to do. Some way to feel anything else except the oppressiveness of this winter season. I dreamed of snow, I waded and swam through it. It was in the air I breathe and in the music I listened to, to the point where it seemed like there was nothing but constant, constant winter and little else.

To think it was hardly a few months ago that I lay practically naked in bed with my lady love listening to the ocean through an open window. The sound of the snow plows going by again added to my feeling of oppression. I needed something better to write about.

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