The Winter of My Discontent
"Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days."
- William Shakespeare, Richard III
When I was a kid, I thought Winter was the best season ever. Summer was too hot and it didn't have the mounds of snow that were so much fun to play in. Every winter I relished in bundling up in layers of snow gear to enjoy sledding, intertubing down large hills, building snow forts, having massive snowball fights, and just playing in the snow. I loved wearing sweaters and flannel, and enjoyed many steaming cups of mulled apple cider, hot cocoa, and bowls of soup.
The older I got, however, the less and less Winter appealed to me until I finally grew to have a fair amount of disdain for the cold, dark, and bleak days that have few hours of sunlight. Fast forward a few more years, and I realized that Winter encapsulates me perfectly. I have always had a dark side. I embrace the night, I appreciate the dark, I long for harsh sounds, and the absence of light allows me to be anonymous.
I have entered the Winter of my discontent, but this year, I am looking forward to it.
The older I got, however, the less and less Winter appealed to me until I finally grew to have a fair amount of disdain for the cold, dark, and bleak days that have few hours of sunlight. Fast forward a few more years, and I realized that Winter encapsulates me perfectly. I have always had a dark side. I embrace the night, I appreciate the dark, I long for harsh sounds, and the absence of light allows me to be anonymous.
I have entered the Winter of my discontent, but this year, I am looking forward to it.
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