i'm laying in my warm bed of down feathers and irresponsibility. i've been here for a while now..all of my life, actually, but the prospect of getting out of this bed is overhead, looking me straight in the eye.
i can feel the frigid wind now, i get introduced to it more each and every day. the autumn of this period in my life is turning. all of these weathered adults tell me exactly how icy it is out there, and how frigid it gets from this point on.
how if i'm not prepared to break at the right time, i'll slide right through that stop sign at which the 'promised land' awaits. how one day my warm bubble will pop and i'll suddenly find myself frozen in this new and unusual climate, no matter how hard they try to prepare me. it doesn't help that the lessons they've taught me are almost as unreliable as the blanket they've provided me with.
winter has never seemed so scary. i guess this is growing up. i think i'll savor these last few drops of warm childhood protection and innocence.