There was fog outside the window. A light bulb was burning in the cold, cramped room. The dim light allowed me to see the steam coming from my mouth. It was so cool in my apartment.
I woke up early. About five in the morning. It was a day off, and I was just enjoying the view out the window. There were no people outside yet, though someone else was awake, just like me. I made the bed, put the kettle on and just waited for the moment to come.
However... it still wasn't snowing. I wasn't discouraged, though. Instead of just sitting by the windowsill, I decided to do some cleaning.
By 7 a.m., a strong wind had picked up. The fog was thickening, coming closer and closer to my house. I wanted to open the window, but I realized that then my apartment would be completely empty. So I just stood there and admired the view.
By 9:00 a.m., I realized not much had changed. I could still see the clouds that had greeted me upon waking. I still felt tired, as if I had never slept. I still dreamed of the possibility of seeing a miracle. And then, at lunchtime, the thing I had been waiting for happened - it snowed.
With a frozen smile on my face, I stood by the window. I watched the snow fall on the window sill. At times like this, I felt the finale approaching. This year was slowly coming to an end. Thoughts of missed opportunities, fears and ambitions flooded my head every time during those frosty days. I couldn't get rid of them. And they didn't want to get rid of me.
There isn't much happiness in our world. And yet, I am grateful for what I have. Of course, it wouldn't be enough for some, but I'm not complaining, on the contrary. I rejoiced in the little things: the snow, the rain, the cold, the icy grit on the pavement. I didn't give up on the deadly summer. I didn't scold spring or fall. I always rejoiced in strong winds and simple sunny weather, but still I never betrayed myself. Seeing the gray, gloomy sky. Even from my earliest childhood, I realized that this was the state of my soul. This is everything I love so much.
A lot of people don't get it. They say it's crazy. But I don't care. I see the weather as my friend, not my enemy. And I accept it with all its faults.
It was already two o'clock in the afternoon, and the snow was still falling with the same force. I decided to go for a walk, to get some air. I put on my hat, jacket and boots. I went outside and was amazed: everywhere I looked, everything was white. To make it more fun, I climbed up to my knees in the snow and walked like that, imagining myself a pioneer of the local streets. People looked at me like I was crazy. They carefully avoided the snow. As if they were afraid of it or even despised it. Of course, to each his own.
In those moments, when the horizon was narrowing and only a small part of the city was visible. It seemed as if the environment you were in became more cozy. I immediately forgot the problems: rejection, disinterest, oblivion. I tried my best. I kept going, no matter what. And still, I have never seen the success that those who broadcast from the height of their flight promise us. And I've never even come close. Sometimes it's worth thinking about. A little reflection, ask yourself a few not-so-pleasant questions. But you don't want to bury yourself in a pit of despair.
When I came back from my walk, I was quite hungry. When I entered the apartment, it even seemed warmer after the street. I looked at the thermometer and... of course it wasn't. The temperature in the apartment still resembled the street at the height of an autumn night - thirteen degrees, no more.
I washed my hands, changed my clothes, and decided to make dinner. "Household chores," as most people call them. Day in and day out, the same thing. Get up, eat, sleep. Some people get sucked into it like a swamp and don't let go for the rest of their lives. Some are tormented by it, some are killed by it. I was fine with it. I approach everyday life with my own philosophy. A special, or maybe not so special, approach that gives me meaning even in such simple little things as cooking, washing and cleaning.
Dinner was good, not that I know much about cooking to create my own masterpieces of world cuisine. But I couldn't call myself completely armless. After the meal, I sat down on the nightstand: an ordinary, wooden one that stood on my balcony. Instead of a screen, I looked at the snow falling outside the window. It was already getting dark. A frowning, heavy sky was pressing down on the roofs of the houses. There were no people on the street at all. Everyone had long since gone home. I sat there for a long time. I even forgot about the time. I had to get up for work tomorrow. It would have been nice to get a good night's sleep, but I just couldn't move. I was caught in a storm, an impenetrable darkness.