Frozen fields, morning tea.
This would be the life if I still wasn't a wreck.
If I was out of the city too... that'd be nice.
Run off to that cabin in Alaska for a few winter months. Most people I know cruise during this time of year, vacation in the warmer climates, and here I am daydreaming about some place colder.
Look to the horizon on your left, the right, north and south.
Not a single speck of humanity in any direction.
Paradise on ice.
Just give me six months and plenty of jerky and beer. Can't forget the beer. I'll probably blow through the entire six month supply of jerky in 12 minutes. I'm kinda stupid like that.
... would I want to bring anyone along with me.
The steam rising from my tea went dead. I must've been thinking about that question for a while.
Oh well, not like I've never drank lukewarm tea.
Story of my life really.
Things going likewarm, lukewarm, chilly, frigid
cold.
To think... about this time five years ago I was sizing up a mate. An honest to god "stay with me till one of us drops dead" mate.
How did I fuck that up?
I'm not being rhetorical here, your guess is as good as mine.
This time five years ago I detested the taste of beer. I loathed spring, and I was in love. Or at least that's the memo I got. Aparently love is here and gone in a matter of days.
Forever is never in some circles. Five years...
Years passed are being counted like hairs fallen.
Tragic really.
Just tragic.
Cold tea... and morning encroaches more brazenly than before on that naive, pacifist dawn. The horde is coming, your women will be dead or whores by the morning, and you will be an arrow ridden corpse in the snow. Pink steam wafting from your delicately obscene wounds.
Helpless can sometimes mean delicate, fragile. And that can sometimes mean beautiful, but only in the sense of ephemerality.
Vanishing.
Just like my breath on the window.
Just like my youth.
Morning... and that oppressive tyrant rolls over the horizon fully alive. One of the better times to turn in and get some sleep. Wait for twilight's sweet poison to drain the beast. Then it'll be safe to look out my window, watch the cats finick with the frost, and spend another invisible hourglass wasted well.
Paradise on ice... on ice, like on hold? On the rocks?
... I only just now caught that, and I'm glad that I did, but whipe that half-smile off your face old man. People might think you're sad.
Think the second part of today will be any better? Who cares. I have right now.
Satisfied, and willfully oblivious.
