"I want something else. I'm not even sure what to call it anymore
except I know it feels roomy and it's drenched in sunlight and it's
weightless..."
~ Mark Z. Danielewki, from House of Leaves
March, despite your dramatic mud-stained footprints and temperamental atmosphere, I'm elated that you've we've made it this far (I dreamed of you for months!). Send your most melancholy, weeping icicles to drip down my now woolen scarf-free neck and toss out all the esoteric, deceptively deep puddles you can summon; I will still find you super-adorbs.
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