I think it feels like December will never end. You know, the beginning of the winter season, where the faint clash of snow and raindrops in the air, the type of combination that pings off the window pane. The pitter patter, the rush of wind that effortlessly begun to stir, time slowing down.
It was that gentle harmony, the effervescent sound of water vapour and cumulus material stuck to dust, rushing down to earth, merging with urgency and yet somehow, grace. The air was as thick as I had ever seen, and yet I had no desire for anything or anyone else.
The sky was turning that pale yellow, the off-white reflecting off the streets. It was only 4:30 in the late afternoon, and yet it was turning dark quickly. Maybe that was foreboding of what was to come, but maybe I was reading into this too much?
The earth never deserved us, our callous, cruel senses that assault nature at all costs. Our capitalistic desire for more, where nothing is ever enough. Even you. Why do I want more? At what cost? It comes from inside, that feeling of discontent. We know this, but why?
Snow, rain, or sleet are simply clouds rebelling against staying above us in the sky. And what of human emotion—are we wired to view others through the same lens, rebelling against what we know would be good?
Hannah Arendt always described humanity and human dignity as what distinguishes people beyond systems or ideologies. When you really think about it, we are in a simulation - where dignity is only as fragile as the last like on a social media post.
The beginning of snow is starting to pile on the window frame. The sky is now a dark ink, and the street lights have turned on. We cannot be in a simulation, or why would I feel a desire for nostalgia, for that feeling of when everything was better? We were younger? I was happier?
Please stay, don't go, I am here now. Please stay, don't go, I am here now.
