Awkwardly Introverted

  The air is sharp, biting at my skin the second I step outside. The kind of cold that settles into your bones, making you question every life choice that led you to this exact moment. The world is covered in frost, trees standing like frozen statues, and the wind doesn’t whisper—it howls, demanding attention. 🌬️🌨️ Winter always comes with this eerie silence, like the earth itself is holding its breath. The streets are emptier, footsteps muffled under layers of snow and ice. People move quicker, heads down, wrapped in scarves and regrets, all of us collectively wondering why we haven’t migrated somewhere warmer. 🏔️🧣 Hot coffee ☕, thick blankets 🛋️, and the false promise of warmth from a weak sun—that’s all we have. The heater struggles, the chill seeps through the walls, and suddenly, everything feels like too much effort. Going outside? Only if absolutely necessary. Social plans? Canceled. Productivity? Frozen solid. ❄️😩 And don’t even get me started on walking to class. My ...

I’m   over it.   The cold is unbearable, the wind is ruthless, and no matter how many layers I put on, it’s   never enough.   My heater is working   overtime , but honestly, it’s fighting for its life and   barely making a difference.   I’m wrapped in blankets like a human burrito 🌯, and yet, somehow, I’m   still freezing. This kind of cold isn’t just inconvenient—it’s  aggressive.  It sneaks into every crack, makes my bones ache, and turns simple tasks into a  battle for survival.  Stepping outside? Feels like a  personal attack.  The wind doesn’t just blow;  it slaps.  It doesn’t just chill;  it cuts.  Yesterday, it was so cold that I literally  couldn’t catch my breath  😵‍💫. That’s when you know it’s bad—when even the  air itself  is out to get you. This isn’t normal. This is too much. Winter always  overstays its welcome , and I’m at my  breaking point.  Th...