a penny for your thoughts

words float around and around till there is no more place in my head

small droplets suspended in air

I told you it was cold. You told me “Summer’s mosquitoes are quickly forgotten in winter.”

I only really get it now.

 Amazing how beautifully white suits the morning. More amazing is that we have met the first messenger of winter without turning on central heating or having hot water at work. I feel medieval with my huge, warm grandmother’s scarf, watching tea vapour circling around the edge of the cup.

But apart from the sentimental romanticism, it does not feel good to be colder than I already was; though it does feel good to be able to find something to talk about with almost every colleague.

 It astonishes me greatly how people are more united in misfortunes than they have ever been in happiness. I can’t put my finger on it, really. Why is it so? Does it have something to do with the fact that everyone has its share of burden and there is nothing to feel envious for? Why are we capable of bitching together but only few are able to enjoy the happiness of the moment with others? We are so used to counting other’s happiness, I am afraid we hardly realize the amount of ours. 

In everything I touch
Feel their cold hands on
Everything that I love

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