Today I sit inside this room and on this screen and I keep typing. I don't know what for, I don't know why. Nothing really makes sense, and if it does it sounds cliche and melodramatic.The cold is coming back, both metaphorically and literally. It'll snow again, covering up the soggy wreckage the ice left behind, uncaring. The weather doesn't give a damn about you.Talking to Nikki again, I think...