Snow Angels and Similar Wintery Nonsense......

Winter is a strange season. Every time I think of winter, I think Ally McBeal. I keep seeing her walking in the snow, and I see Larry and Billy and all the others she thought she could have loved.

Winter, it’s confusing. It has these periods where you feel like nothings going to come out of everything that you do and everything that you have so far done, it’s been for nothing. Winter sometimes makes you realise the futility of existence, almost like saying to yourself, eventually, we’re going to die anyways, and eventually, we’ll be forgotten, and eventually, all the people we love will die, and eventually, we will all be alone, just like we constantly keep kidding ourselves we aren’t.

Eventually. There will be nothing to look forward to but getting lost in the dust.

And sometimes, winter makes me cry. Winter makes me cry through the nights, because it makes me realise there will eventually be just me to give me company. Winter makes me love people a lot more, perhaps because the warmth doesn’t make people sweat like it does in the summers. And loving people makes you miss them more. And more and more. Because you know that they’ll go away. I feel sometimes like a kid standing on a terrace waving at airplanes passing overhead.

Winter is confusing. It has bloody Christmas in it. With no disrespect to Diwali (it’s too noisy and sometimes the stories of card parties piss me off), there is the universal Hallmark™ feeling that advertising has tagged onto it, which will make you think and rethink your life. It’ll make you wish for hot coffee/cocoa and lots of Xmassy things like chocolate and cake and etcetera. There will be the promise of laughter, of cheeks turning pink because of cold, frosty air, love, joy, enthusiasm and other such placebos we create. Add ons to these are the stores and restaurants and coffee shops with all that cheesy/cheery decoration thing going, carols blaring out non-stop out of tastefully hidden speakers, silly Santa caps on random people you pass on your way home, RJs on the radio telling you how Santa will be dropping love and goodies in your chimney (the fact that you don’t have one doesn’t count).

Makes you forget that life sucked last week, and you wanted to dig a hole and take up permanent residence in it. Fucking winter. Bah & humbug and Lewis Carroll.