oh yes i love her like pussy, money, weed

the situation outside right now--cold morning air and fresh, unadulterated snow--is one of only two situations in which i kind of like the winter (the other being snowfall at night, particularly when yellow streetlamps are involved. cliché, i know.). it reminds me of the joy-grape in keats' "ode on melancholy"; this moment is so peaceful and beautiful precisely because i know that it will be gone shortly. the grey daylight will eventually set in, the sidewalks will eventually be shoveled, and the beautiful, untouched snow on the sidestreet facing my window will eventually turn into dirty, grimy slush. before that happens, though, i'm going to go enjoy this moment in the best way i know how. (do i really have to say it?)