(no subject)

[isom]

+ The day is full of cold, cold air. At the busstop today, hat and scarf covered, my breath was breaking through and surrounding my face like a second layer mask. I thought for sure it was going to freeze all around my head and become a kind of helmet. I could use a helmet nowadays, but not an icy, opaque one. My eyes would become icecubes, I'd take off my helmet and my frozen eyeballs would plop right out and roll like cold marbles down the street. Wow, I remember writing a few months ago about how the humidity was swelling my curls and suffocating me, but now the air here in Arkansas is going to entomb me. Still I prefer the bundling up than the stripping down. Summer, you were cruel torcher. You weren't invited. Winter, what a masochistic tease. Come on over.

Yr invited,
isomxchad