on coldness

I wish I could of willed myself to read further last night, into some obscure novel. Vonnegut's words were potent, and interesting; but the fatigue brought on by the freezing night and the previous early morning conversation put me into a sort of hibernation to last for 9 hours. This sleep was enough to make one question his existence. I didn't register myself, had no conception of my personhood; had forgot that an "I" even existed.

Luckily, my energy carried through. I did exist, and continue to. My senses were aware enough to be disturbed by the pale sun reflecting off of the snow and ice outside. The beams of light refracted into my window where I was suddenly aware of energy and life that had not been there the night before.

It is an amazing thing to see the dead revived.

However, it is still cold. My nose and toes grow numb at the lack of circulation brought on by slow moving atoms. I find it barbaric, and unsettling that the senses, of the persons, of this planet can be subjected to such things as tempature. It would seem a silly reason to die. The reality itself is harsh.

There are sometimes where I feel I've engendered a person who is not me. The choices I've made with this person, this body, are seperate from who I am. But then I realize the fallaciousness of this claim. So I modify my thoughts to go something along the lines of, "sometimes I feel I've engendered a person that I did not want to become." Yet, I realize that I don't believe I'm capable of becoming any other than what I've wanted.

So I choose to no longer think on the subject.

It's still cold. But the sun, and the energy found therein, work dilligently to mitigate the position of this planet. Today it is someone else's turn to be warm. Soon it will be mine, and someone else will be cold. For now I will use my own energy more. I will dress warmer and fuel the air in which I live with artificial heat. I will also realize that energy is no good determiner of personhood; nor is it a worthy pursuit. But it is reality, and without it it is cold; and I hate being cold.

In the end though, I can wait. Because I realize it all comes down to position. It only matters how close to the sun we are. Things will change; my window will be open again and my feet will be bare.

This creature of energy will find his supply, and his direction. Because it is all about position; and I'm ready to move.