Everyday, as I wake up in an east-facing room full of light, I crave for the cold touch of winter. Winter, with its layered clothing and gloomy sunless mornings, are what I have anticipated ever since I landed here. But the seasons haven't changed yet, and sunny skies brightly attempt to dismiss the cobwebs away.
I have always enjoyed sadistically the exaggerated loneliness of winter. The walks alone. The icy breath of the wind increasing your vulnerability. Thoughts that come in verse. Something about winter is painful and so, beautiful. I want my frosty mornings, howling winds, pairs of old-fashioned socks, cup of steaming black tea and a book to cuddle with. Winter reminds me of my strength to fight. Will power. A blend of everything that the other seasons are, but in just the right amount.
I have always enjoyed sadistically the exaggerated loneliness of winter. The walks alone. The icy breath of the wind increasing your vulnerability. Thoughts that come in verse. Something about winter is painful and so, beautiful. I want my frosty mornings, howling winds, pairs of old-fashioned socks, cup of steaming black tea and a book to cuddle with. Winter reminds me of my strength to fight. Will power. A blend of everything that the other seasons are, but in just the right amount.
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