(no subject)
i don't know what it is, but today i feel like posting a lot in livejournal.
sometimes i love being outside in the winter. don't get me wrong, i really strongly dislike shoveling and i'm lazy about getting out there to do it, but that's generally what ever gets me outside in the first place. i love that when i shovel i get really warm and there's all this heat emanating from the center of my body outward. and when i'm tired i sit down and look around and eat the snow. it's best when no one else is outside. it's so quiet. sometimes i can hear the snowflakes as they fall on my jacket and on the ground. then i just lay back in the snow and let it fall on my face. everything sounds so far away when i'm lying in the snow. i feel so comfortable, even though it's cold, with snow pushing in on me from everywhere except up. and then i just close my eyes and listen. the snow tickles my face, but i don't let it bother me because i'm tired and relaxed and happy and snow tickling my face isn't really that big of a deal. and as i lie there i think about who i would like to be lying in the snow with. not in a romantic way most of the time, but i just wonder who would lie in the snow with me. and i think about what we would say, what we would talk about or if we would say anything at all. sometimes i'd love to fall asleep in the snow, but i never do because i'm afraid i would make myself sick from lying out there too long. but it's always tempting. the way the snow forms to my body when i fall back into it... it's just so comfortable, almost more comfortable than my bed. and sometimes i sing to myself. well, i do that all the time, but sometimes i sing while lying in the snow to see if anyone hears me. or sometimes i sing just to hear how it doesn't echo, how all the sound stays right there with me and is absorbed by the snow instead of floating off to someone else's ears. of course, sometimes i just sing out loud because i know i'm all alone and nobody will say anything if i sing off-key and at the top of my lungs. and other times, it's just nice to be quiet. so quiet that you hear things you didn't think made any sound - like snowflakes falling. and when somebody speaks to you it sounds like the most beautiful thing ever because they can speak so quietly and so clearly at the same time. and it's the only sound. voices are such pretty things. if you've got one person out in the middle of a snow-covered field, or in the middle of a frozen lake or deep in the forest just talking or singing out loud to themselves... i think that is so pretty. just voices and small sounds and snow falling.
i feel such a weird urge to write. or read someone else's writing. probably the latter one because i end up hating everything i write. it's so hard to force my thoughts into words. they never seem to fit together just right.
faint winds and far away a fading laughter... that line reminds me of today. or maybe it's the other way around. or both.
au revoir.
sometimes i love being outside in the winter. don't get me wrong, i really strongly dislike shoveling and i'm lazy about getting out there to do it, but that's generally what ever gets me outside in the first place. i love that when i shovel i get really warm and there's all this heat emanating from the center of my body outward. and when i'm tired i sit down and look around and eat the snow. it's best when no one else is outside. it's so quiet. sometimes i can hear the snowflakes as they fall on my jacket and on the ground. then i just lay back in the snow and let it fall on my face. everything sounds so far away when i'm lying in the snow. i feel so comfortable, even though it's cold, with snow pushing in on me from everywhere except up. and then i just close my eyes and listen. the snow tickles my face, but i don't let it bother me because i'm tired and relaxed and happy and snow tickling my face isn't really that big of a deal. and as i lie there i think about who i would like to be lying in the snow with. not in a romantic way most of the time, but i just wonder who would lie in the snow with me. and i think about what we would say, what we would talk about or if we would say anything at all. sometimes i'd love to fall asleep in the snow, but i never do because i'm afraid i would make myself sick from lying out there too long. but it's always tempting. the way the snow forms to my body when i fall back into it... it's just so comfortable, almost more comfortable than my bed. and sometimes i sing to myself. well, i do that all the time, but sometimes i sing while lying in the snow to see if anyone hears me. or sometimes i sing just to hear how it doesn't echo, how all the sound stays right there with me and is absorbed by the snow instead of floating off to someone else's ears. of course, sometimes i just sing out loud because i know i'm all alone and nobody will say anything if i sing off-key and at the top of my lungs. and other times, it's just nice to be quiet. so quiet that you hear things you didn't think made any sound - like snowflakes falling. and when somebody speaks to you it sounds like the most beautiful thing ever because they can speak so quietly and so clearly at the same time. and it's the only sound. voices are such pretty things. if you've got one person out in the middle of a snow-covered field, or in the middle of a frozen lake or deep in the forest just talking or singing out loud to themselves... i think that is so pretty. just voices and small sounds and snow falling.
i feel such a weird urge to write. or read someone else's writing. probably the latter one because i end up hating everything i write. it's so hard to force my thoughts into words. they never seem to fit together just right.
faint winds and far away a fading laughter... that line reminds me of today. or maybe it's the other way around. or both.
au revoir.