I can’t take this anymore. The cold, the snow, the lack of colour… It’s crazy that it takes 10 minutes and 5 layers of clothes to get out of the house. And once I’m out, it’s so difficult to go anywhere; not that there is anywhere really to go. The bears have it right, they know how best to spend winter.
It wouldn’t be so bad if winter was all I ever knew; if there was nothing to compare it to; but I know better, I’ve experienced spring, and summer and now I feel like an abandoned child whose mother has left him in a cold, locked, white room. I’d wail and cry, but I know it wouldn’t do any good. Mother Nature has gone out to play Bingo at the local church hall, and she’ll be back when she’ll be back.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Mother Nature, maybe a little too much; the term Oedipal Complex has been bandied about; but I can’t help myself, it’s her warm, tender caresses, the brilliance and softness of her of flora… I’m a sucker for her charms.
But not now. I feel I’m slowly dying for Lack of colour; her ambivalence, her callous disregard for my feelings and comfort has really angered me. It’s amazing how her supportive-love could turn so cold and uncaring; and then engender that in me as well.
I really love her when she is warm, but she is impossible to live with when she is cold like this. My mind has been made up for a while now, but this snowstorm was the last straw.
I’m not cruel and spiteful, rather, I refuse to be where I’m not wanted and valued. If she won’t be faithful, then neither shall I.
I’m running away, to Bali… and I’ll only be back when she comes to her senses.