I am sick of the cold,
I am sick of the grey,
I want to be warm,
I want to be in the sunlight.
I will settle for a roaring fire.
Listening to the crackle of the wood
As it burns.
The hiss and pops sound
Just like the empty spaces
On an old vinyl record.
It takes stretches of shit weather
To really make you appreciate
Every time someone sings about sunshine,
It is powerful,
It is primal.
It is life,
Burning bright,
And providing for everyone.
Minnesota is known for shit weather,
It's too damn cold in the winter,
More snow than fucking Canada,
And our summer is maybe 3 months,
If we are lucky.
I don't think we will be luck this year.
Call me a pessimist
I don't care,
It just seems like the dreariness
Will never cease.
It is bleak. I feel hopeless,
Cold, wet, and grey,
24 hours a day
7 days a week
Will d that to a person.
Seasonal Affective Disorder
is the clinical term.
I think it's funny that it spells SAD;
Because of course it does.
This cutesy named thing,
Is actually powerful,
It is very real,
It drains you of all your energy,
It drains you of your desire for life.
It takes away the spark.
No spark = No flames.
I want the flames.
I want the fire.
I want that hot passion to be ignited.
I can feel it,
Wanting to escape,
To be set free.
Gnawing at its restraints,
Like a dog on a leash.
But it needs that spark,
It needs that extra push,
Because I cannot brute force my way through this.
I cannot will my brain to behave,
I make myself have certain feelings.
That is not how this works,
That is not how any of this works.
There is hope..
Guy says there is hope.
Things are getting better,
The sun is getting stronger
Days are growing longer.
And it will be warm once more.
That is the promise of summer,
However fleeting it may be.
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