winter light cuts different. sharper. like a shard of glass. makes you see the dust you thought you swept away. makes you feel the cold that's always been there under your skin, waiting. waiting for what? i don't know maybe to reclaim what was always its. the static is gone maybe. just…quiet. the kind of quiet that used to scare the hell out of me, the kind of quiet that makes you wonder if you're actually alive or just a ghost in your own life because I still don’t think I’m used to it.