This time of the year always frightens me. Gray descends
on the world as the days become nothing but a shodowy dimness between nights.
The sun and its tenuous warmth are held captive behind endless waves of mist and gray.

When the sun does shine, it only seems to warm the surface
of things. It is a shallow warmth that doesn't go very deep. It clings to the
surface like dim memories of warmer days.

And when the sun is gone, these memories slowly fade,
leaving the world cool to the touch. Cold memories rise from deep inside where
warm memories cannot reach.

Yet somehow... this makes me feel more alive. Maybe cold
memories are more real than warm ones. Cold memories are full of fears I don't
understand and things I don't want to remember.

I guess being afraid if part of being alive. You can avoid
fears by hiding in dreams. But if you dream too much, you may never wake
up.

I don't want to hide in dreams. I don't need to hide in
forgetfulness.

I just wish my memories didn't frighten me so
much...