I have to start finding ways to subdue my passionate yearning for spring or I’m going to go bat-shit insane. This winter is like being unrelentingly beaten by a large, ogreish man. There comes a point when you realize the beating isn’t going to stop and there’s a good chance you’re going to die. Do you keep struggling, more and more feebly, so he can relish in the obvious progression of your defeat? Or do you embrace your attacker, laugh maniacally through a mouthful of blood, and totally creep him out? As the saying goes, “If you can’t beat them, find a way to prevent them from extracting pleasure from your torment”. So, Winter. No more fantasizing about outdoor movies, strawberry ice cream, or the lush smell of sunburnt skin pressed against sunburnt skin. Give me snow. Give me ice. Spill gray slush into the tops of my boots, make me not care about shaving anymore, hide the sun, crack the skin on my lips and spit cold and furious winds in my face. I LIKE it. I’m not a person, struggling to keep warm against your arctic onslaught, I’m a CREATURE, baring my teeth from the back of my cave over a pile of bones from my prey.
I’m a BEAR:
These are PREY:
I am WARM and FUZZY:
When the holidays are over and there’s no cheer left to sustain you through the drudgery of January through March, you must embrace your animal side. Don’t try layering that flimsy summer frock over leggings and encasing the whole pathetic attempt at optimism within the recesses of a parka, be a creature. Don’t fight nature, become one with it. Be carnal. Be a predator. Carry talismans reaped from the remains of your kills.
Paint your lips red with the blood of your enemies. Or with this classic lip rouge.
Keep the company of other wild creatures and howl at the sky late into the night.
Having a boyfriend with a beard helps too.
Give in, and overcome.