it is 07.46 am, and it has been snowing again.
I am awake, and outside there is a man in a tractor, trying to clear paths in the snow, piling it up neatly.

it is 08.02 am, and the man in the tractor has left.
the cloudy sky is greyish deep blue in the dawn.  the chocolate is cooling in the kitchen and my pills lay here beside me.
but I do not yet wish to sleep.

the rats are mostly sleeping.
my female is sleeping.

I hear footsteps upstairs, in the apartment above.
the world is waking.


I guess in a way that I should be happy.
Why aren’t I happy?

There is a beautiful winter out there.  Cold, hard and deadly.
I want to go out there and sit in the snow and think.
Feel the icy cold to my skin, feel the burning, paradoxical pain set in.

There is such a gentle snowfall outside.
I want to see the snowflakes land on my clothes, in my hair.
I want to watch it as it doesn’t melt.

And then I want to come back in, curl up beside her and thaw again.

/pao – 22 dec 2010 – 08.38

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  1. In the palace of the Virgin lies the chalice of the soul, and it’s likely you might find the answer there.