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There's a warm sleepy feeling in my arms. My eyes are a little tired, I think. My head feels light, with a little buzz around the forehead. But I like the feeling in my arms the best. I'm not sure how it's possible, but the sleeves of my jacket are noticeably warmer than the skin of my arms, so that whenever I move in any way, the pattern of warmth brushing over my skin changes noticeably. I like the winter light I can see coming through my window, somehow hard and gray and flat but at the same time a hint of the spring to come lingering in it... maybe my arms feel so nice because my chest is cold. A bird is calling outside. It must be cold out there; maybe its feathers are good enough protection. I like the colour of the sky. I like being relaxed.
"It's not strange, no mystery
Why you and I are history" - Loudon Wainwright III
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