Doing anything feels like a chore.

I literally, cannot, bring myself to do things. It's like I need happiness and I need it now, instead of working. And it's royally pissing me off. It's pissing me off that there's this sort of barrier I have to step over to talk to my friends, to open my library to play games, to even type this.

Feels like a bloody chore. Feels like it's taking too much effort out of me.

And great. Now that I've written this out, it feels way too barebones to read.

Can you imagine? You click on 'Next Chapter' and you get what, 3 paragraphs? Barely more than 10 sentences. Disgusting.

So, let's write a story here as well. Why the hell not?

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It's so cold. I want to sleep.

The traveller left deep footprints in the snow. All he could see was a vast expanse of white, the blizzard overwhelming everything. He couldn't feel his hands, he couldn't feel his feet.

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He wasn't even sure that he was still moving, but he did the motions anyways.

Just a little bit further, for the nth time. Just one more foot in front of the other.

It's so cold. I want to sleep.

He did not dare to even sit. But he so very much wanted to.

He continued in the storm.

Alone.

The cold was insidious. He had lost all sensation of feeling.

He looked down. The snow was so deep. He lifted his foot. There was a pile of snow on his shoe, and the pit he un-covered had already vanished under the continous snow coming at him.

He took a step forward, watching his feet curiously. And it sank and he moved forward again.

It's so cold. I want to sleep.

He thought he had gotten used to the cold by now. He suddenly had an urge to scream. To claw at his face. To take off his clothes and just run. He thought he had gotten used to the cold by now.

He thought he had...

This will pass, he told himself. It has passed before, and it will pass again.

It did not fucking pass, it gnawed at him, and he had to continue moving.

...

He just wanted everything to end.

It's so cold. I want to sleep.

He wanted to huddle up in the snow and sleep.

Just a little bit more.

One foot in front of the other.

He could not feel his breath on his face.

But other people have made this trek too! He was just as prepared as them! He had done everything right!

Why...

Why was he here?

He had done his best.

It's so cold. I want to sleep.

The snow was never-ending.

The cold was never-ending.

The cold.

The cold.

Cold.

It was so cold.