vacillate raze i toggle back_and_forth between gratitude that it isn't yet as cold as it's going to get and feeling betrayed that a season named for the absence of warmth has failed to live up to expectations. on days like this, i want to scream at the architect of all i know to give me a sky that snows instead of one that weeps. i'd rather turn to ice than be forced to swim against my will. but when the clouds part and enough sun sneaks through, i think i could learn to love this milder kind of wintertide. 231228 what's it to you? who go blather from