It's so cold out here. Some nights I just sit by the fire and I don't know where I am, because it's so dark all around. It's not like there's a lot to talk about. What is there to talk about? I've learned so much about the woods. If I told you how many different creatures there are, you wouldn't believe me. Most of them hide in caves; they'd rather stay in the darkness than face the cold outside. I sometimes wonder what it's like for them down there.
I remember summer days where I would just lie in the grass all day and watch the clouds above. All shapes and forms, moving, changing ... it felt like a good "forever" you know... as if I could just stay there forever. And it would be OK somehow. I miss that a lot. That warmth.
At first it cracks and sparks fly across my face. After a while it breaks to pieces and orange waves send each pulse towards me and it keeps me going for another night. I have to keep it going; don't let the flames die, or I'll freeze to death. And maybe this "forever" will pass too, like all things do. It won't matter. None of it does.
Take good care of yourself. Don't look for me out here, I'll be back soon anyway. I promise.
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