A brief and ugly summary of surviving cold climates
For visitors and writers alike.
You were never meant to be here. Never forget this. You are an ape of the equator, built to run the savannah and swim in tropical waters. Whatever terms and conditions your body has, they are void here. Mother nature never certified to function in a Death World.
Enduring the cold is never a matter of “how much” as much at it is “how long”. Think of it as the water levels of the vieogames you have played. No matter what equipment enables you to remain longer, you can’t stay there indefinitely. The coat that keeps you warm and toasty for three hours in -15 is enough to keep you functional for an hour of -40.
Whatever the locals say, listen to them. Err to the side of caution if you must. You may not endure what they can endure, but you SURE AS FUCKING NOT cannot survive what they say cannot be endured.
That being said, alcohol is a filthy fucking liar and so is anyone who offers it to you. The warmth it gives is an illusion, and a sign of damage. You are worse off feeling comfortable with a mouthful of whiskey as you are freezing your gonads off stone cold sober.
Winter tires. Studded winter tiers are a MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH when you drive on a frozen road. That being said, whatever the locals tell you that your car will need to run as theirs do, take it. Taking the risk of being pranked is worth survival, and you can always stab their tires in the spring if they were shitting you.
Eat. For the love of god, make sure that you eat. Heavier meals might be unpalatable at first for someone used to lighter nutrition, but maintaining bodily warmth in a cold climate takes up a lot of energy, and you will feel tired and drowsy for a long while shile your metabolism adjusts to producing more heat than Mother Nature ever intended. The skinny people in your party are especially vulnerable, ensure their well-being on a regular basis.
If you have a smartphone/other essential technology on your body, keep them close to your body to keep them warm. They were not designed to be frozen any more than you were.
Sleep is death. SLEEP IS DEATH. Never, ever stop to rest in the cold, if you do not have the means to make a fire/otherwise produce heat. The cold tires you out because keeping warm takes energy, but taking a rest will not return your energy. If you feel the need to sit down and rest because you are tired because of the cold, call for help. This is not a hyperbole, if you feel like you are too tired to go on in a cold climate, CALL A FUCKING AMBULANCE. If you fall asleep in the snow, you will not wake up. Hypothermia can and will literally kill you.
Avoid skin-to-snow-contact if you can. It hurts because you were not supposed to do it. Consider ice to be like acid. Touching is bad for you.
Feel free to add to the list if you feel like I missed something.
Note: These are a collection of tips found in various places on the internet. While some of these are my own, they do not all belong to me.
•Mix together Salt and Pepper and sprinkle to prevent trespassing
•Add coffee to a bath to break a curse
•Place sachets of dried rosemary around the home for protection
•Sprinkle around garlic powder to keep evil at bay
•Add lime to your water for protection
•Carry a clove with you for courage
•Mint attracts business - try hanging a sprig above the door to your private workspace
•Place a sprig of thyme under your pillow to bring about prophetic dreams
•Hang a braid of garlic in a sickroom to trap the negative energies
•Put a vial of rosemary water in a sickroom to promote healing
•Stash an onion beneath a sickbed to soak up wandering negative and harmful energies
•Seaweed can be used to ward off evil spirits
•Scatter dried or fresh chilli peppers to break a curse
•Throwing rice into the air promotes rain
•Lilacs rid unwanted spirits
•Black Obsidian is great for scrying
•Stitch sigils into clothes, blankets, etc
•Too Cold outside to storm call? Storm calling / weather magick will work just fine when facing your window and looking out
•When showering, imagine all the impurities and negativity being washed off you by the water, and down into the drain
•The Fae enjoy sweets as offerings the most
•Wear your pendulum as a necklace when on the go
•Use amethyst crystals to recharge your energies. Left Hand - Out with the old. Right hand - In with the New.
•Soups and stews not only are great for healing the body, but they have many magickal properties too!
•Himalayan pink salt can get seriously expensive. Unless you plan on eating it, buy Himalayan Pink Bath Salts. They’re so much cheaper and you can buy them in even larger bags.
•Use coffee filters and elastic bands to make the perfect bath bags
•Use sea salt when sweeping the floor to soak up the negative energies and cleanse your home
•Store your Black Salt in a dark glass jar, away from sunlight.
Feel free to add all you like to this list and share it. Once again, I do not own every piece of information within this post. It is a collection of knowledge found from multiple sources. Blessed Be Dearies!
“I’ve been sitting here for three hours trying to figure out what to do. I need to make a sale. Rent is due in a week and I don’t have the money. I’m already starting to miss payments on a loan I took out recently. I made two cold calls today and both of them went like shit. I’d never do anything bad to get money, but who knows. I’m beginning to dread going home. My kids are small and want …to be with me all the time, but I’m so stressed that I have no patience. I’ve been losing my temper easily. We were at my brother-in-law’s house this weekend, and he’s doing much better than I am. His kids have a bunch of toys. My son kept begging me to buy the same stupid little toy truck that his cousin had. And I yelled at him to forget it. I only had enough money in my pocket to get us home.”
From a young age, air moons are taught their emotions are worthless. Whether it be by firsthand experience or people coming right out and saying it, air moons constantly have their feelings invalidated. This happens several times in youth so eventually when they grow up, they can no longer express their emotions in a healthy way.
*“air moons” will be abbreviated to AM’s
Examples of behavior in childhood:
-people laugh at AM’s frustration
-AM’s ridiculed for expressing their identity through clothes, hair, personality, etc
-AM’s given harsh criticisms
-AM’s called overdramatic or told they are overreacting when they were not
-AM’s manipulated into thinking they do not have a right to be upset
-AM’s humiliated for having feelings whether it be having a crush, or being excited about their hobbies, etc
-AM’s laughed at for being logical
-AM’s called cold or heartless
-AM’s yelled at for disagreeing with other’s opinions
-AM’s told what to think and how to act
-AM’s secrets shared without their permission
-AM’s punished or blamed for what someone else has done
-AM’s berated for not having proper manner’s
-AM’s told they are selfish
-AM’s forgotten or left out
The above behaviors destroy Air moon’s ability to process their feelings. Air moon’s grow up thinking their emotions do not serve them any purpose, and so they try to cast them away. They learn that emotions only cause them humiliation from others, make them seem weak, and cloud their judgement. The sad part is when they grow up, people will then make fun of Air moon’s for ‘not having feelings’ even though they are the reason for the repression in the first place. People get used to Air moon’s having little emotional outbursts and so when an Air moon does become upset, people’s first reaction is to say ‘this isn’t like you, it’s not that big a deal, stop overreacting.’ But this is detrimental to Air moon’s conscious. After such an incident, the Air moon will try even harder to hide and destroy every emotion they have. They will try to never let you see that side of them again. Holding in such feelings is exhausting and harmful to the Air moon. They must learn how do undo the damage done in early childhood. They must stop overanalyzing their thoughts and actions. They must learn to stop saying ‘I do not have a right to feel this way and so I will make myself no longer feel this way’ and start accepting their feelings for what they are. It is ok to be angry, to be upset, to be confused. Air moons must learn that emotions do not make one weak.
If you were to walk at night through certain forests around the world, you might notice a mushroom glowing green. There are about 80 species of bioluminescent fungi around the globe. Scientists studying two of those species native to Brazil and Vietnam write in the journal Science Advances that they now know the exact chemical reaction that allows fungi to emit light. Turns out, it’s a lot like fireflies.
The chemical reaction involves an enzyme called luciferase (which, depending on how poetic you want to get, can be interpreted as “devil-maker,” or “maker of the light-bringer” or, most accurately, “enzyme that helps a compound called ‘luciferin’ do stuff”).
The enzyme helps luciferin gain oxygen molecules, which excites it. Once it’s excited, luciferin will release light as it returns to its usual, non-excited state. The green light it releases is called “cold light” because there’s almost no heat involved.
There are a lot of different types of luciferin. The one used by these mushrooms, identified in 2015, is different from the others identified in plants and animals. In the lab, the scientists found that the enzyme used by fungi to produce light can be used to make all sorts of colors, not just green.
Fun fact: It’s thought that reactions like these originally came about to get rid of extra, unattached oxygen molecules – in the same way that blueberries are sold as “antioxidants” to help human bodies get rid of free radicals, aka free-floating oxygen atoms.
- Rae Ellen Bichell
Image source: Cassius V. Stevani/IQ-USP, Brazil, Science Advances
I am a cold love
I kiss the way you like it
but I never close my eyes
when you put your hands around my waist
I’ll tell you how much I need you
when you’re too tired to remember
how warm the words feel when they hit you
I’ll wrap my arms around you at night
but you’ll wake up alone in the morning
So you call me cold hearted
but I can’t wake up next to you
and memorize your smile
or the way your hand feels against my cheek when it’s only you, me, and the sunrise
You’re fleeting and you know it
Don’t fool yourself into believing we’re more than one snapshot in a set of millions
I’m always going to leave you in the morning
one day you’ll thank me for it
This one has some moving parts, and plays out over a year or so.
At one point, I was managing a small team of business development reps at a small software company. These are the recent grads that would be phone monkeys, making cold calls trying to set-up appointments for the real sales people.
I had two reps at the time: Amy and Paul. They were young, but hungry. They listened to training, and were generally great employees. At one point, Paul and I realized that we had some mutual friends, and that helped our relationship.
Fast forward a few months from their hiring, and my boss grabs me one morning for a meeting with HR. Apparently, Amy had filed a harassment complaint against me, alleging some crazy things. She reported that my single goal was to ruin her career, and that I would make sure she was fired.
The HR meeting was a formality, as no one believed it, but they had to do the investigation. Nothing came from it, but I would never be alone in a room with Amy again. If she came to talk to me with no one around, I would go to a common area of the office or invite someone into the discussion.
A few more months, and Paul asked me to be a reference. The company was a mess, and the CEO was running it into the ground. I was more than happy to do it, as I was job hunting myself. I just asked that he keep me in the loop about interviews and offers, and I would cover his time out of the office.
Not surprisingly, he landed a job pretty quick and gave his notice to me. Also at this time, IT was doing hardware upgrades to laptops adding more RAM, allowing us to run the latest version of our product for demos.
I coordinated with IT to have both their machines done one day, and told them to take a long lunch.
Well, a little over a year before this happened, one VP had been fired. After he left, I learned it was common practice for IT to review all the Skype chat logs from the machine. Luckily, it meant me getting a small bonus because the VP was trashing the company to me, but I wasn’t, and I was vaguely praising the CEO (I’m no dummy, and don’t have those conversations over channels that can be reviewed.)
With Paul out the door, and Amy being a lying cunt, I asked IT to review their Skype logs during the upgrade, because “something seemed fishy”.
I was right. Even though Amy deleted her chat logs, Paul didn’t. There were chats in there about how they were both job searching, and Amy had gotten an admin password for our CRM. She had been pulling customer lists to take with her.
Furthermore, she had been bragging about receiving a $1,500 bonus to drop the harassment complaint against me, as the CEO was worried that any complaints or lawsuits would scare away the investors needed to keep the company going. Oh, and she chatted that “They made me sign a non-disclosure about it, but they won’t find out.”
Oh, she was toast. Director of IT and I went straight to HR and the CEO with the print outs. The decision was quick: both were to be terminated immediately. Amy for unauthorized access of data and breach of her non-disclosure, and Paul for some bullshit reason of not reporting her.
They got back from their lunch, and I immediately called them into HR. Paul was given a 2-weeks severance, but Amy needed to pay back her $1,500 “hush” bonus. Because of her gross misconduct, she wasn’t eligible for severance or unemployment, and the re-payment was deducted from her final check and quarterly bonus. Her exit check was for less than $10.
Paul had two weeks off, with the severance. We remain connected, but I love seeing Amy changing jobs on LinkedIn every 6-9 months.
Whilst everyone’s talking about these two’s actions this episode in isolation, I haven’t seen anyone discuss them in relation to each other - and how, even after being apart for so many years, these two characters are still deeply in tune with each other when it comes to decisions.
Both have killed plenty of people over the seasons. Jon’s is never questioned in the same way Arya’s is, because Jon’s is seen as ‘part of his role’ (so, by that logic, Jon is arguably a more cold blooded killer than Arya, but anyway, that’s a side point which is not worth discussing). Arya has time and time again been called a cold-hearted, ruthless killer. And it just isn’t true.
Both have shown that they feel hard actions, more specifically death, are sometimes necessary (ie Jon beheading betrayers and traitors, Arya killing the specific Freys who were a part of Red Wedding). They are cold and calculating when they need to be.
Now, anyone who understands these characters at all understands that cold, calculating side has always been matched by the side which is merciful, which values life, which forgives. But I have never seen the two so paralleled in this until this episode.
Firstly, Jon. Sansa pushes him to take away the Karstark and Umber ancestral homes. Members of the Karstark and Umber families rebelled against the Starks, and she believes they should pay for it.
But Jon, who understands the need for both calculation and mercy, argues (and wins). He says that those who rebelled already paid their price - of death. He does not believe that the children should be punished for crimes they had nothing to do with. He understands that just because you are part of a group who rebelled, it does not mean you rebelled yourself. And the outcome of this decision? The living Karstarks and Umbers swear fealty to Jon, and the North is strong once more.
Meanwhile, Arya. At The Twins, she only rounded up the Freys who were part of Red Wedding. She did not kill innocents, family members who were not part of that decision. She understood mercy so much so that she prevented the innocent women from drinking the wine, and saved their lives. It would have been easy to kill everyone - but Arya is not a heartless murderer anymore than Jon is. She knows where the line is.
But arguably, an even more important scene for Arya this episode is when she encounters the Lannister army. You can sense her growing anxiety as she sees Lions emblazoned on their swords, armour. You can see her assessing the situation, as she sits surrounded by men who are technically her enemy. But these men do not try and harm her. They give her food, wine - entirely innocently. And Arya accepts it. She could have easily decided to kill them; they fight for the Lannisters, after all. But she realises that yes, they fight for the Lannisters, but that does not make them responsible for Cersei’s crimes. That does not mean they deserve to die. The outcome? Innocent men survive, and Arya, who has in the past lived off insects and bugs, gets some warm food and wine.
In this episode we see both Arya and Jon faced with decisions involving mercy and justice. And both of them react just as you would expect two inseparable siblings to react - in exactly the same way. They spare those who were not involved in others’ crimes.
Both Arya and Jon understand, balance, and respect the line between cold calculated justice, and mercy.
a/n: my first woozi fic, my first seventeen fic, my first kpop fic. this was supposed to be something really simple and silly, but my dumb ass had to go and add a bunch of sadness and backstory to it, as always. as you can see, it got dramatically out of hand. i’m so sorry, i hope someone likes it
~ in which you haven’t gotten off in like six months, and lee jihoon is the pleasure specialist, himself. (he’s also a little bit more than that.)
“I promise you, you won’t regret this,” Wendy reassured you, but they were words she always said right before she convinced you to do something that you definitely would regret. She’d used them very often over the past year, during which she’d somehow convinced you to go on roughly thirty blind dates that she’d set up in her desperate attempts to get you “back out there.” You knew her heart was in the right place, but every single date had been a disaster. The problem was that if she knew a guy who wasn’t already taken, there was a reason for it. The first set-up been with a guy named Jinho who still lived with his ex-girlfriend (in a one bedroom apartment) and adamantly refused to wear deodorant; one guy, Jinwoo, told you he had recently quit his job and moved back in with his parents because he hadn’t had enough time to play League; you’d tried so hard to will yourself to forget the second to last guy, but how could you forget the name (Daehyun) of someone who sat down across from you and proceeded to ignore you for the whole two hours it took him to eat a salad, baked potato, and two steaks before “suddenly realizing” he forgot his wallet, telling you he didn’t think you were his type, and leaving you to foot the bill.
Soft, melancholy notes floated through the air as each delicate touch of your finger on a key formed a song that held emotions of your past. It had been forever since the last time you had the chance to play. It even surprised you that remember the song. The broken and dirtied piano left to rot away in this hell hole of a place still carried a beautiful sound, shockingly. Maybe that was sign that even broken things are still beautiful…or maybe you were just thinking too much into it as you usually do.
You weren’t aware of the pairs of eyes staring in your direction. The echoes off the abandoned walls vibrated down the halls and into the rooms that haven’t saw the light of day in ages. The eerie vibes of the present day faded away as the death of the sick came out to be remembered. The forgotten spirits wailed and the tormented settled.
“Y/n…” Dean’s voice broke the flow and then…silence filled the atmosphere once again. “Since when-”
“Don’t worry about it,” you interrupted before standing up and wiping off your hands.
“That was,” Sam started, “beautiful.”
Castiel nodded. “And very sad.”
“Oh-well-um.” You couldn’t find the strength to form the words thanks to the lump in your throat. You looked around the room. “Seemed fitting.”
Sam nodded. “That it is. What’s it called?”
“Cold, by Jorge Mendez.”
The three men just stared at you in awe before the eldest Winchester finally spoke up. “We have got to get you a piano for the bunker.”
Summary: Senior Rowan Whitethorn is new to town. It doesn’t take him long to get use to a new school, make new friends, even join the local hockey team. But it also doesn’t take him long to meet sophomore and figure skater Aelin Galathynius. And it doesn’t take him long to realize one thing; he can’t stand her.
Aelin had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. She glanced over at Nehemia, but the dark skinned beauty was too busy backing into a parking spot of the school parking lot to pay her any attention.
“Uncle Orlon,” The car came to a stop and Aelin sent Nehemia another pointed look - “Isn’t going to kill me for added a little extra sugar in my coffee.” A pause. “Uncle Weylan might though.”
“There are several things wrong with your statement,” Lysandra spoke up from the back of the car. She leant forward to look at herself in the rearview mirror, fixing her hair as she spoke. “One, you got a gingerbread latte and added three extra packets of sugar. I wouldn’t call that ‘a little’. And two,” Lysandra turned, sending Aelin a deadly smile. “Coach Weylan will definitely kill you when he finds out.”
“If he finds out.” Aelin smirked, taking a big sip of her over sugared drink.
Oh, my sweet, sweet child, what has the world done to you? You were a bright promise, the tomorrow we had hoped for, holding flowers in your mouth without crushing them and trusting blindly in those around you. And then came the blood; and now your fire is a quiet thing, a crackling murmur hidden in the shadows. You’ve curled into yourself like a newborn babe, held your heart tightly to your chest and began the tedious healing. And all the salt in your tears made the deep wounds sting; was it this what kept you pure? I wonder, oh, I wonder. Before you, I had never seen an anathema so full of innocence. (The world tried to cast you down from paradise; and it succeeded. But the fall couldn’t maim you, for fire cannot kill fire – it simply shrunk you, much like a mimosa bloom. I hope one day you’ll feel safe enough to flower, for there is so much beauty in you.)
I wish I could wrap my hands around your shoulders and hold you close for a while, because oh, what sad things they are, your bones. I am so sorry, beloved; so very sorry. And I am well aware these apologies cannot change anything, but I want you to know that there is someone who sees you as you are – even when all the others see is your superfluous frivolity and your desire for riches, I see the thoughtful mind, the gentle gestures, each and every of your heartbeats. The song of you is imprinted into my memory as the change in seasons is; you are unforgettable, something so precious and so very dear. (Don’t let them shame you for your greed – those who try to do so cannot wrap their all too little minds around the fact that sin is not necessarily negative. Your love for gold has root in the same place as your love for others; you only want it so you may share it.)
It’s lonely, isn’t it? not being the way all others are. They tell you you’re a forgery, that your smile is a mask and your composure an act, simply because they cannot accept the idea that people are supposed to be multidimensional. On and on they go, pinning their ignorance to you under the name of blame, seeing in you only that which they wish to see. Sometimes, you wish you were like them. I know you do. You shouldn’t. It might be lonely where you are, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing; lonely doesn’t mean secluded. There are others like you, with minds like diamonds. Others like you, who are only habitual in their tendency for change. (You will find someone who can make sense out of you, one day, you know. They’ll know you better than you yourself do – every single aspect of you, every single frantic facet and feeling. And when you do, the wait will be more than worth it. I promise you won’t die nor live alone.)
You poor, poor, poor thing. It’s been a thousand years since you’ve curled into yourself, hid your heart deep in the cradle of your ribs and let yourself sleep; then the time came for you to awaken, and you found the world unchanged – it was as if everything had stood still. Reality swept into you like saltwater into gaping wounds, and every fiber of your soul wept. fearful, you took the broken glass road still, walked it fully aware of what laid in waiting; like a bride the night she is wed to a stranger, you swallowed your terror and saw it through. Often, those ignorant make you out to be such a bumbling coward. You’re not. You just aren’t. (In fact, you’re one of the bravest people I know; it takes so much courage to let the world see you weep – and it takes even more of it to wipe your tears and keep moving forward. Above all, it takes immense courage to allow yourself to love even when you know it’ll hurt.)
The size of your heart puts to shame both Jupiter and your own pride and ego; to this day, I am not sure if you would have been better off with one much smaller, but I know for sure the world would have been emptier by far. You see, your touch is one of gold; whomever you decide to invest your time and love into grows the size of Atlas, and so, without you as you are now there would have been much less in the world. That is your downfall, isn’t it? Always has been. The way you’ve always put others first, giving them all of you, never asking for anything to be given to you in return. You are a gardener, dearest, and people are your roses. (It breaks my heart that all your selfless effort was almost always repaid in hurt and sorrow; know that you are not to be blamed for any of it. You have done nothing wrong – sometimes, things simply fall apart. Don’t shut your heart. I’d hate to see your love rot and turn to hatred.)
You have endured well the contempt of others, my dear; you have taken every blow with open arms. They have called you frigid and prude and arrogant and everything in between, but you knew better. Tell me then: if you can endure so well the slander of others, if you don’t care what they make of you, why do you worry so? Why do you see only blemishes when you look at yourself in the mirror? Your hesitance to trust others stems in your fear that if you let them in they’ll see your ugliness, all the imagined imperfections you see in your reflection. You can’t trust others because you don’t trust yourself; and I wish so badly that you would have a little more faith in who you are, in your beauty. (Being unable to forgive, jealousy and lust do not make you terrible. Hate is human nature as much as love is; emotions, be they bad or good, are intrinsic to mankind. You are such a passionate being, despite your outward delicacy, and that, my dear, is simply stunning. Please try to love yourself.)
Darling child, didn’t the gods tell you the mob sees dancers as something of the devil, especially when their preferred stage is the sharp edge of a sword? Few in this world love truth, and fewer still are fond of things like righteousness and justice. Your ability to remain indiscriminate in the face of contradictory realities and deny none of them is both a blessing and a curse. Your mind, I fear, is the Pandora fate has crafted specifically for you; a beautiful gift that hides such doom and sorrow. And you are aware of all of this – how you were meant for greater things, with your noble mind and your true heart, yet on you dance, fighting against the windmills of adversity. How brave you are. (Know that your effort will not go without reward. Know that you won’t be forever unloved, nor will you be forever misunderstood. There will be those whom, like you, have the makings of just men, and they will understand. Keep your eyes open and search the crowd; that is what you do best.)
I look at you and my heart grows small; there is so much sadness in you, from the flower of your eyes to the slouching arch of your shoulders. You have been misjudged and falsely accused for so long: Whore, they said; monster, perverter, sickness of the soul – and all of it because you like sex, as if somehow they are the Virgin Mary reborn, the goddamn hypocrites. This, too, is something they have misunderstood; it is not sex that you crave or are interested in. It is intimacy: it is the vulnerability that comes with having your soul completely bared and lain before another; you crave love, in its’ purest of forms. (And I know they have convinced you that someone of your kind is not “worthy”; fuck that. Your love is priceless, and one day someone will call your battle scars a masterpiece. One day someone will love you as wholly as you deserve to be loved. They will love all of you.)
There is such wanderlust in you – you’ve made a home out of the long, long roads, walked the earth to its’ ends and bathed in the oceans of the horizon; the sky was your sole companion, its’ stars your map, the wind a spellsong to ward off the passing sadness and melancholia that threatened to dim the flame of your heart. Oh, my child; how very wonderful you are, a barefoot nomad forever in awe of the world. The feeble minded call you rootless; how wrong they are. Having a voyager heart does not make you afraid of commitment. It simply means your roots lie elsewhere, splat across the world. (Do not let their malice plant doubts into your mind’s garden; your gypsy heart is worth more than all their empty ones combined. Keep daring the world, sate your thirst for journeying; only exploration can ever lead to discovery, so let your feet and head both walk the world.)
Good god, you’re so tired. Life has worn you down to the marrow of your bones, took everything from you until you were bare-handed; and yet you’re still here, standing before me, your spine hardened to titanium, a delicate thing that can withstand even the most apocalyptic of sieges; you still find it in you to smile, bitter-bloody-all-teeth and still happy, somehow. Know that I am proud of you; of your bravery, of your resilience, of how you’ve clung to life by the skin of your teeth. I am proud of you. (And know that you deserve happiness – you may feel like you don’t, you may feel that it is above the likes of you, but you deserve it; you have earned it. Know that one of these days, the sun will shine down on your lane, too.)
There’s so much of you inside your skin I am often surprised it has yet to come apart at the seams; there’s so much of everything inside your skull I am left in awe of your bones – often I wonder, how are they strong enough to contain the exploding universe inside? My god, this world of ours has seven wonders and you are all of them. The fortitude of your bright mind ceaselessly surprises me; I know what to expect, and yet I am still thrown off by your ingenuity and your ability to remain rational in your abstract ways. Nobody but you is open enough to accept it all; nobody but you can see through the prism of all eyes and walk away with their sanity intact. (I know they call you “cold”, an ice queen of the Siberian tundra. Let them be. Those who cannot see your white-hot warmth are not worthy of your brilliance. You are the brightest star, my dear, someone accepting and embracing of it all. Do not settle for anyone that is blind to your light.)
And how terrible it must be for you, who lives always halfway, to be stuck in a world that demands certainties which you will never have to give. It is not to say you don’t want to be resolute – you simply cannot. Your world does not have truth, nor does it have falsity; all that your world has are colors, swirling, forever mingling anew like the clouds in the sky. One day you are overflowing with everything that blooms inside of you, and lilies are spilling out of your ribs; the next, you’re empty, and you can’t for the life of you find something that is all-encompassing enough to fill the growing abyss south of your sternum. (Kknow that it is okay. The most humane thing you can be is full of contradictions; as maddening as it can be, each paradox gets you closer to the entity your peers call God. It was never the Devil that built his home on the crossroads, you know. Embrace your nature.)
Poetry for the Signs: The “You’ve Done Well” Edition, byL. Schreiber.