The snow. Something I ire until it arrives. Snow makes me wish I lived in the forest. Alone and unbothered. The city is nice, but it turns the gorgeous snow into MUCK. I found a neighborhood that is close to downtown but still a little quiet. I think the snow will last longer here. I hope it will. If it doesn’t, I suppose I’ll have to leave. To throw it all away for an endless white forest. I likely wouldn’t survive, but if I did, it would be worth it. To sit and commune with a non-speaking forest alone.
But I know myself, and those around me know me. I need people. I need many. So I will live with the muck and enjoy it however I can. It is simply a sacrifice I must make.
Running away must wait.
Work must be done.
Reason must be had.