Today a man was pacing near me.

It was thoroughly unnerving, and for awhile, I considered chucking my mobile at his head.

Brain: Now now, you love to pace while you're waiting.
Babs: But when i do it, it's sexy
Brain: Hahahahahaha! You're completely deluded, how cute!
Babs: Yes, i am cute.

*****

jason mraz song... what's it called... "good day sunlight, I'd like to say how truly bright you are, you don't know me but I know you see, you're my favourite star..."

yeah that maybe won't really connect well to anything i say next. consider it as juxtaposey mood music.

winter is just about here.
she is like that girl you love/hate.
Hate because you have to protect yourself from her.
She will chill you to the bone if you let her.
Love because for all her grey bitterness, there's...
a beauty about her.

It's not sustaining though.

Every day I close my eyes and pretend the warmth of the sun is kissing my skin. Bathing in light, I feel light as a golden feather. I'm good at pretending.

But that's not sustaining either.

I can't convey... and I hate to admit... how utterly desperate I am. I have to restrain myself from typing "please" over and over and over, in some vain hope that the weather gods will maybe catch one.

Let me get warm for a moment, an hour, enough to make me appreciate winter again.

Of course, that won't happen. What will happen is that my mundane routine will pull the choke chain around my neck, and as I gasp, I will forget the temperature for an almost decent interval.

When oxygen gets back to my brain I'll remember. And maybe I'll curse my life, myself, for not being self-sufficient enough to generate my own heat source.

And after that, I'll go back to mumbling "please" under my breath.

*****
Rug up baby, it's gonna be a long one.

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