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It's the cold that kills me.   —   Frustration

New York City in the winter is very difficult to manage. On the one hand the winter blankets the streets with ice and snow and fills the air with freezing cold temperatures, which do not allow the scents of garbage, human feces and urine to dominate your senses. On the other hand, the ice and snow and wind and cold wind beat up your face and sting your flesh even through the bundles of clothing you spent 10 minutes putting on, and it makes you heavy and tired and frozen. This is New York City and there is no alternative to walking so going anywhere is met with great discomfort, pain and effort.

With some people this is all but a winter chore, a hassle sure but hardly worth a thought. It does not stop them in their efforts of going to bars and hanging with friends and running around the city doing their city things.

With other people, they walk down the street cursing and shaking and dreaming of warmth and sun. They stay indoors and commute as little as possible and spend the days, weeks, months, in their apartment dreading the moments that they know will come when they have to venture outside again.

I am the person dreaming of warmth and sun. The cold makes my bones ache and every day I break a little bit more on the inside.

Posted 1.26.2004



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