I am reminded of a proverb that goes like this:
"why is snow white?...because its forgotten what color it's supposed to be."
What color am I supposed to be? I don't even feel like it matters anymore because it doesn't matter how I appear to others. Because as long as there is a snowflake next to me, drifting as I do, I'm not alone; and really as snowflakes we are all different in our one subtle ways, no two are alike. Maybe one of these days I wont feel like I'm a single snowflake, maybe I will feel like I'm part of a snow fall. All making up the snow that covers the ground on Christmas morning, thats part of the meaning of winter, of a family clustered around a hearth, never alone.
Lately I've been hearing about this thing called "reform" maybe I should get me one of those? It may be good to try something new.
-the hopeless ramblings of Sharad Richardet
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