Cold Mornings

My fingers are frozen. I chose not to enter my first class because I’m such a rebel.  I’m sitting in a bench outside of the architecture building and it’s like minus a hundred degrees out here. HOWEVER, the sun is slowly coming out and that feels like a thousand little rainbows giving me a Japanese massage.

I guess being outside gives me a general feeling of well-being. That’s partly why I hate being inside. The problem is that, in this city, being outside means waking up in an arctic no-man’s-land. The temperatures are so low, I am wearing like three sweaters, five shirts, three scarves and I’m STILL cold. But it’s slowly getting better. Oh, there’s the sun again. No thanks little rainbows, I’m ok now. No, seriously, I’m ok now. You can stop giving me Japanese massages. Thanks.

I’m with a friend, we’re chillin’. Quite literally at times since the sun seems to have taken personal offense to me rejecting him. The cold, however, loves me no matter what I do or say. As a matter of fact I’ve been cursing at the cold for the last hour and a half and it has not been discouraged. I guess I was pretty rude with the sun, it was just trying to help and I sent him away.

Even though I had been pressuring myself to keep writing, I find that the looming presence of exams pretty much takes all the excitement and creativity out of me, and leaves me like a dried leaf on a hot autumn afternoon. So, since I don’t want to force anything, I’ll just write when I feel inspired. Like now. I’m not writing anymore, because of lack of inspiration. No more writing for me today.


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