Snow Dance.

Some days I wish that it wasn't bad for me to keep drinking more cups of coffee.
I would drink it continuously if I could because I'm always tired.
The snow finally fell, and it was worse than I remembered. 
You'd think that after 22 years of the same cyclical patterns, 
I would expect the pain. 
Piercing icicles stabbing my body, through my snow soaked clothes.
Pain plastered to my face.
Just yesterday I was wearing shorts, and today I needed a snow suit.
But I only have to endure it for 2 and half more months.
Then, I will be here:
and my iced over body will melt into pure happiness during the Summer in Sydney.

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