Lost all innocenceI don't actually celebrate winter. Sorry. I've lived in places that were colder than Mars. I was born on a peninsula on the coast of the Atlantic ocean with the relentless wind and snow and I learned to drive on ice before I learned how to properly fuck and yeah, okay. I miss winter.
Infected and arrogant
You burn all your life
(There's no telling you)
No deliverance
Consumed by the pestilence
Of hate, you're denied
Deep in your heart does it still remain?
Do you think you can bring it
Back to life again?
Is it still in your soul?
(No saving you)
Where's the deviant
The unholy revenant
That has made you this way?
Made you fall for this hate
Alot. Which is hilarious because it's a claustrophobic, helpless feeling to be trapped indoors against the elements, counting meals and candles and hoping the power stays on and the furnace keeps lit and maybe we should have a better backup plan or tickets to Bali or some such thing that could save us when it gets so cold even the mental demons take up refuge right inside our heads, shivering.
The kid in me misses the snow, I guess. It signaled a break from work. Ever seen a Ferris Wheel covered with snow? Me neither but I think it would be beautiful. Imagine the lights. Instead it's packed away in little pieces in a warehouse because Lochlan said it would rust to shit if let outside in the elements over winter.
Yeah, wouldn't we all be ruined if left in the snow?
That's why I'm here now. Back to the beach only rarely do I have the heart to make them hear that it's the wrong beach. Wrong ocean. In a place Lochlan left for a reason but a place from which it's easy for the rest to do business. Close enough to LA without having to live there (God forbid) and yet still here, in Canada because I refuse to leave. Sorry boys.
But it's winter today. Officially. So...wooo? Let me dig out a light sweater. Let me marvel at the fact that I still haven't put on shoes to walk to Daniel's house across the backyard because I don't actually need them. Let me laugh at people warming their hands on lattes and standing in store lineups in Uggs and long down-filled coats and toques. What fucktards. This isn't cold. I can show you cold.
Lochlan says the cold is in my eyes. That I'm suspicious of change and disdainful of things I don't understand. He's careful not to call me harsh but that's what this is. All of it.
Happy winter.
Definitely on the wrong list this year. I wonder if I'll get any presents? I could ask the Devil (he would know) but he would also give me everything without even blinking, except for the one thing I ask for.
Because he would be cold now, Caleb tells me. And that wouldn't be good for you.
And you are?
He laughs. Of course I'm not.