>>7078707When I'm cold, everybody scrambles for my gaze.
When I'm hot, they disappear.
Why does my warmth go so unappreciated? Why does my chill earn such wanting?
I feel like an air conditioner for the summer of the soul.
But I guess that's how it has to be.
That's how it always is.
And it's fitting, since winter represents death. And that says a lot about the people who seek the warmth.
