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7:53 p.m. - January 29, 2005
Snow coming down just for me
It began snowing a few hours ago and after having taken a longer walk than wearing only a thin windbreaker calls for, I am laying atop the big desk pulled against the window, my feet dangling over, and watching the snow come down. It is so quiet out and the flakes are large, a gift for me tonight. During my walk I thought about how I'm drawn to this otherness that is a snowy evening in the Northeast, coming as I do from the state of two seasons: Just right and A little rain. It isn't the snow as much as it is the change, the otherness, Derrida's unpronouncable différence that shook the bedrock and opened the door to freedom, of being somewhere different and during that time, someone different.

All metaphors of snow apply.

 

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