• So I had this brilliant idea to start writing. Regardless of the fact that what I'm writing is probably a piece of crap with no informational or relevant value what so ever. Still, I digress, and remain speaking in the first person, which I am taught never to do. Third person is so much more informative and formal, so, in the context that what I'm about to write is neither, I shall continue to do so.

    It snowed today. Countless snowflakes poured from the sky and littered the ground, in a pale, shiny white which glimmered in the incandescent light pollution, lighting up the streets around me. It snowed during the morning, which because of the light, I mistakenly viewed for daytime until I accessed my computer, this revealing the time of day to me only in the double letters “AM”- the numbers tagged to them irrelevant, although this being seven, zero, eight. Despite still having junctions around me that were intended to be attended, I decided to stay home and bask in the beautiful weather that was pouring down around me. Of course, after the immense levels of frost had rained for only a couple of hours, the streets were thick and laden with ice, this keeping anyone from getting home quickly, and leaving quickly. During these times previous to the rest of the world being halted, or should I say the United States, on our National snow day, 48 states covered, I decided to move around the outside.

    As it turns out, I have a very high temperature tolerance. Not because I left my house towards the snow naked or anything, but merely due to the fact that my clothes were in single layer and might lighter and thinner than my compatriots- and I felt warmer. I wore a thin, canvas ebony, green, and brown camo colored jacket and pants, these of course appearing to be military issued clothes. They were of course, the only long sleeve clothes I possessed and, despite their oddity in a white covered wonderland, I enjoyed their comfort quite wonderfully. I wore another dark, thin pair of light gloves which bore a resemblance to motorcycle gloves, primarily because they were motorcycle gloves, and carried a thick layer of plastic atop the knuckles to protect the hands from all but the coldness of the slush which eventually pooled around my gloves. My favorite attire, of course, were my military and workman grade steel toed combat boots, that although tan, lifted me a full two and a half inches above the ground and covered my feet with a padding so thick I presumed them capable of stopping landmines, or at least a six inch six millimeter nail. My clothes adorned, all that was left was a black covered open faced balaclava and my once again, camo colored boat hat. All of which, kept the snow off my naked body until my own heat melted them and allowed the capillary action to transfuse the snow into water, this of course permeating my clothes and evaporating, at a very slow pace, cooling my entire body. Once again however, I must admit that I discovered that I do have a very high temperature tolerance- because despite the water seeping through my clothes, I felt quite comfortably warm, although wet.

    I never said that I was warm, however. Merely, I felt this way. Perhaps I was ignorant of the situation, or perhaps my body was incapable of responding to the temperature difference, or even perhaps, hopefully my internal body temperature remained at a constant high temperature. Which ever the case, I was cold but I didn’t feel cold, allowing me to traverse the area in rugged, reliable, yet frost laden attire while my compatriots complained of the clothes than thicker clothes than I- this being a jacket and a trench coat. Regardless, my boots were better than what I let them borrow- although my black boots did look cooler in certain respects to the much larger, stronger tan ones I wore.

    So we walked in the snow. It was a long, cold, treacherous hike of merciless hail and ice pelting and freezing our every exposed surface and revealing the true power of the cold to our very skin, to our eyes, to our bodies in an uncanny, un-thought of way- pretty much in our front yard, on such a massive scale even too powerful of comprehension for this long run on sentence. Still, it was a cold day, that was quite fun for us to traverse. Why the snow is fun one cannot say, other than the fact that it’s the deviation from the norm. I suppose if I lived in a cold place and a freak, global warm day occurred I might celebrate on the same level, but the snow is something that is a lot harder to occur in my opinion. At least where I live. An unrevealed place in Rockwall, Texas, the United states in the metropolitan area within the neighborhood of… an actually unrevealed place.

    The cold wind whipping at our cheeks, nothing but the shallow ramblings of how awesome the cold was could escape our lips, this the only thing on our mind; this the only thing on our bodies; this the only thing in view. The mountains of snow pouring down from the sky, thickening, and furthering the fact that the United States was going to come to a screeching halt, only so that it’s members may come alive with joy at the sudden pass of snow. The darkness overhead was blotted out by the reflection of the snow, and the nights seemed barely dimmer than the day during this time.

    I don’t think that the snow is so bad. Truthfully, the cold is responsible for millions of deaths each year, an is brought about by things which other types of weather barely experience- sold materials piling up. The snow covers houses and dampens everything slowly, with pounds of heavy, 1000 kg per cubic meters squared materials building up on everything, including living human beings. The one thing you could be sure of with snow however, was the lack of colossal speeds. Sometimes blizzards got bad, but they would never whip at speeds close hurricanes, or major storms, or sending herds of gigantic, searing hot lightning bolts comprised of freed, energized electrons straight towards the ground in an attempt to send millions of joules of energy to it’s target. During the snow, most of the most powerful forces of nature were lowered of dampened, even volcanoes seemingly less likely to erupt and cause damage with the massive amount of snow blotting the smoke and freezing the rock. If something were to be so powerful to overpower the snows effects, it could truly wreak havoc, but the snow seemed to have such a quality about it, such an epic power, that the rest of nature was hardly a power- it seemed to always just be the snow and the cold you had to worry about.

    Not to say that this wasn’t dangerous, and that hell on earth didn’t occur during these events. Rather, everything just seemed to be more peaceful during these times, more quite, brighter yet darker, everything taken away and removed with glistening white crystals, including our breath.

    Why such an event and why I’m writing about this occurred, I don’t know yet, but I presume that both will be revealed in the future.

    So now on to more things. What do I say? Do I speak of my intrinsic, world changing philosophies that will remove major insecurities and destroy the current ‘social structure’ that in all actuality doesn’t exist except in the neurons passing between your brain cells, or nothing at all. Do I try to change the world in a rambling speech written at a whimsical fancy to begin writing?

    Or do I wait, starting a sentence off with a conjunction to convey the ideology that my thought process is continued? Perhaps I shall wait, except for a longer period of time, until I can gather my thoughts and present the world, life changing events which will control the rest of the world and it’s thought process in the future. For now, and until then, I shall remain as a rambling writer, and this is all I have.