Wishes’ Circle.

This was supposed to be a short post about how wonderful I felt for a moment when I looked outside my window and saw the slowly falling snow. Instead, thanks to my sarcasm and twisted sense of humor, it turned into what it is now. I could go on and on with the story brining new events to it. Instead I decided that just few would be enough. If I made it too long, some of you might decide not to read it. Number of times I had the opportunity to end the story in horror, but I rather it had a positive and happy end.

Although it has been snowing all day and I have not really paid attention to it, and as much as I do not want it to snow, yet, I find it beautiful as I look outside my window this very moment. Somehow it feels great, kind of classy and traditional, Christmas is coming, it is snowing out side. Seeing the countless snow flaks falling on the ground simply makes it impossible not to think of something nice and have a smile run across your face. Of course that will last until the moment when you are in your car with fire burning in your eyes as the most profound words are leaving your lips. You are somewhere on the road, maybe at an intersection, and you are forced to battle the elements, provided freely and in abundance by the snow storm raging outside your car.

A moment like that simply makes it impossible not to think of something nice and have a smile run across your face as you remember a mid-simmer day. The weather outside is sunny and warm, with the birds chirping and clouds forming questionable figures in the sky. A day in which you had woken up and looked outside your bedroom window recalling you have the day off. You realize there is nothing to do, and it is time to engage in some healthy exercise with your other half. You begin to think of a romantic ways to awake your loved one, ways to have fun as you stay in bed for the entire day. As you arrive to the most romantic and captivating method of brining the morning sparkle in the eyes of your partner you turn. As she or he is still endowing you with a deep throat roar, you hear a mumble, which forms into the most dreadful words, the only words which could ruin such a wonderful summer day: “I am NOT in the mood…”.

At that very moment you feel a nasty feeling crawling up on your skin, your emotions are beginning to bubble. You remember of how much you love snow, and how much you like to ski. That is when it becomes simply impossible not to think of something nice and have a smile run across your face. Remembering how you swiftly moved through the white powder and a mountain shaking scream: “Ka-la-bungaaaaaa” leaving your lungs. Of course, as the memory runs in front of your eyes just like a movie, you recall how that mountain shacking scream had tuned into the ear piercing, glass shattering girlish squeal of: “Fuck, son of Bitch! Ahhhhhhh…”, as you see the figure of an Deodar Cedar growing with an incredible speed.

In that very second you are brought to the reality of the moment by the very same words you are remembering. You realize, you are not remembering them, you are screaming them as laud as you can, crunching the steering weal, body frozen motionless. The knuckles on your fists are as white as the repulsive white substance on which your care is performing pirouettes at the moment.

In this very instance, as your screaming voice caries through time you jump and open your eyes. Calming your senses and clinching something in your hands you feel the softness surrounding your body, the silk sheets absorbing the cold sweat running down your skin. You comprehend that this mind boggling stunt was only a dream and you are sitting in your bed. This is when you feel the touch of someone next to you, followed by the question: “Are you alright?”. As you fall back in bed you reply in a still fragile voice: “I am fine!”. As you pull up the covers you hear the same voice softly whisper the heart warming, self assuring words: “Wanna have some fun?”.

A moment like this simply makes it impossible not think of something nice and have a smile run across your face, followed by a mountain shaking scream: “Ka-la-bungaaaaaa” leaving your lungs.

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