Now, for some, it is yay and hurrays, for me it is definitely doomsday season.
The months-long wet (not on the way some would want), cold, windy and sickening period is here again. Some have a fetish for this relentless suffering and they write its horrifying name starting with a capital letter: Winter.
It suggests love and respect.
Blah, you can have it all! Officially from Friday, December 21.
I call it Fuck You I’m Not Participating-schedule.
By the way, WordPress, I love your new editor. Sweet change, and frankly, it was time for now. But hey, they do evolve, and so does this service.
Back to winter (small w).
What do you, the fans, like about it so much that when you don’t have it, you visit it someplace else in the world (Himalaya, Alps)? Do you find some kind of morbid joy in frozen limbs, lips, and d…(I have the discipline not to write that word down)? In accidents? Or the flu contributes on some hidden ways to your lives I never have been able to discover?
I just want to know.
Not because then I might think that you’re less of a fruitcake. Oh no. You remain the (still beloved) nutcase you are. It’s just I would understand more of how you process information from the surroundings, like the effects of winter (still no capital w, fuck it).