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Say, what is "time"?

Is it the present of existence? But then it would make the past a reminiscence and the future non-existent.

Message from Writer

Hi~ this is Kii, yours truly.
I'm always tired and always sleepy. Apologies beforehand, I think I might be narcoleptic.

My loathsome seasonal feelings

December 11, 2019

Time felt endless from each step I took. The deep snow reached above my 6-year-old knees and the slush that rubbed against it was the worst sensation I ever felt. My eyes grew wearier and I grew tired. The numbness pounded against my fingers that tightly clutched around the plastic bag from Safeway, almost causing it to go blue. Each time I couldn't, I was pulled swiftly by my Mom's hand, tugging me to go forward even if I knew I couldn't. 

A memory of the unwanted filled with images that I vividly and cannot forget.

The winter snowstorm whispered against our cheeks. Numbing our soft-flesh with every drop from the snow. My 6-year-old tiny palm grasped tightly with my Mom. The only heat that connected us through that traumatizing event. The snow reached all the way to my 6-year-old-knees, proved to be quite burdensome for me. The cold slush tickled my legs and accelerated the numbing and coldness that clung tightly to my long pants. It wasn't as easy as I had imagined it would be.

The numbness crept upon my skin, chilling the bone of my frail body. The wind howled with the enraging storm, not a cacophony, but rather a harmonious symphony. A lullaby for the broken and lost. It sounded so perfect yet imperfect. My body swaying to its tune like a motionless puppet. My mind frozen cold, chilled to the depths that befell upon it. I was like a lifeless body. A soul who has lost the will; empty. 

My Mom was strong. She wasn't broken or misguided by the raging snow. She continued forward with each step, dragging and pulling my hand with her's. She kept reassuring me and whispering to me about all the good things such as warmth and happiness at the end of this path. All she could do was whisper all these childish promises in order to revitalize my lost spirit. And, it worked. She was right.

When we reached the store, it felt like an eternity. An exaggeration of only a meager 15 minutes. I was wrapped in the warmth radiating off the building. My puffy red cheeks were rubbed against a scarf my Mom later bought for me. I was taught an important lesson to look forward and never give in. Even if there are things to hold you down and to kill your spirit. My mom taught me that December should not be taken lightly, but to rather face it head-on with resolve and the strength of mentality. 

That short-term happiness spent in Safeway would not last long. The warmth may have reached our bodies to rejuvenate ourselves, but a short moment shouldn't be taken lightly. Our fight wasn't over. We couldn't celebrate until we reached our final destination; home.

Before heading out of Safeway, my Mom fixed my red hat and smoothed out the winter clothes I was wearing. She didn't bother to fix up herself. She held at least four bags in one hand and the other holding mine. In response when seeing this, I angrily tugged at my Mom's hand and said "I can help too!". She gave me a wry smile and handed me a bag to hold, probably unable to reject my selfish request. The bag was light and easy to hold, I knew she was being thoughtful and gave me the lightest bag. I was happy to help, even if the weight I took away was only a small fraction of the burden my Mom had to carry. Outside the store there were cars parked to the side, buffeted by the snow. People, mainly men shoveling off the snow from their cars with an ice scraper. We walked on the snow covered cement sidewalks. I was determined this time to tackle the snowstorm. I wanted to be like Mom, a strong person who could defeat anything. Even if it meant shouldering burdens.

Unfortunately, our resolves were futile.

Our confidence and determination was shot down by the icy terror above us. Each step like a freezing icicle stinging my legs. We heaved our bodies through the shallow parts of the snow, but soon grew in size from the harsher conditions. The warmth wrapped around my small body gone and lost. The bravery settled in my flames of my determination flickered like a weak candle. These awfully familiar paths seemed like an endless crossroad that seemed to repeat itself every time we went forward. Our bodies numbing from the cold, our fingers turning blue, and our noses red. At some point we stopped. I knew we were past the half-way point to home, but the scenery before me was blurred in the icy white, and even the landmarks I remembered didn't match up. Even if I didn't remember, we had to go forward. I pulled at my Mom's hand and tugged it to move onward towards home.

A hateful despicable storm hidden behind it's purity and innocence that it laid down on the floors of Earth. It was trying to take everything away from me. It was trying to break me down to smithereens by taking away my strength to move forward, the love of my Mom, and the flickering resolve instilled in me. I won't be defeated by this storm and nor would all the beautiful and pretty shimmering flames in my life be put out. Only forward was the answer to all my problems. We had to move forward because there is no other choice than to go forward. To accept the burdens and the unwanted icy kisses from the snowflakes. Like my Mom, I wanted to be strong, to be a person that could pull anyone's weight and there to support them. To go forward like my Mom against the storm that couldn't understand our own wishes. 

I would never forget how cold it is in a snowstorm. The memory of it is left frozen in my mind. It would probably never melt away, nor would my hatred for it.


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