4:50 pm - Thursday, Jan. 08, 2004
Song:
Endless white and frozen. Drifts against the doors that open out. Thick ice coating.
All I can do is sit, sit and read, sit and watch tv, sit and sigh through the phone into Chris' phone card minutes. Feel he hasn't called back because it hasn't the patience.
Rather than jog like I feel like, or homework, or sleep, or talking to any one at all, I am inside. I adore snow, but there's nothing you can have fun with when it's on display. Behind the panes of chilling glass. It's preserved and untouachable without ice chips in your socks and potmarks on the surface of serenity.
I am eager to return to school. There is social interation there, if nothing else for me, because in all truth, I've taught myself more sitting here at home for three days than sitting through my seven classes. And there will be no tests.
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