In February 2008, in Corvallis, Oregon, I went out of my dorm and was greeted by a ray of very bright and cold morning sunshine. That was unexpected, knowing it's supposed to be winter. The sun lasted for a few days. I swear I thought we were entering the spring. Though there's still snow, the flowers blossomed.
It's only later that someone in the dining hall told me it was a 'fake spring', so don't put my hopes up. She was right. The winter came back strong as before, and I took pleasure in it.
In a metaphorical sense, I had felt that the fake spring had relapsed several days ago. I was in the middle of my winter state (the ever bleak I have ever been) when suddenly I thought I saw the sunshine, and things have finally gotten a bit better. I woke up energized, and you probably could almost see the stars sparkling in my eyes. I was happy.
When suddenly last night I went to the bathroom to wash my hand and in the middle of it, I felt something lurched in my chest, pressing. It was choking my throat, and I didn't know how else to describe it. Oh no, please, I pleaded. As it happened, I broke down and started to cry for no apparent reason. The cry lasted less than a minute, but the psyche state lingers until now. I realized I was still in my wintertime.
I'm losing sleep again, and I know in the next few days I will be not not-sleeping.
Currently, it's cold in my place, the drizzle has shooed away the birds on the cable, and I'm writing this to you in my bed.
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