Tuesday, November 18, 2003
|forlorn am I|
I originally wrote this to a friend in an email and realized - "hey, it sounds like something people write in a blog, accompanied by some kind of abstract yet poignant photo." Not that this is at all a bad thing but sometimes, I'm just too damn self-conscious about it all. Anyways, here goes:
"I find myself always getting more philosophical in winter's approach. I think there's something about that chill in the air which triggers some kind of mnemonic switch from my childhood when winter was mysterious and ominous but full of promise in a certain way too...alive with the anticipation of holidays and all the trimmings that come with it. For some reason though, I feel more alone in this season which I suspect has to do with how distant I've felt from my family the last 10 years. Winter makes me think of the comfort of someone else's hearth but not my own. I think part of me is infatuated with the idea of winter but that secretly, I just wish spring would come. And here it is, only mid-November...alas."
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