Winter brings equal parts of loneliness and joy with it. When there is no one to talk to, no one to share the warmth with, then one believes one is better off feeling the chill take over. What meaning does the bleakness of the cold wind take, when there is no one you can look forward to meeting at the end of that road you're walking on? What cheer can the bright colours of the season bring when there is no one you'd want to show them off to? When the clouds come by so close you can touch them, who is there to stop you from wanting to fly away with them? The cold can kill a man, but being so lonely can make him wish he was dead.

When you look out into the night sky, do you hear the world calling out to you? Who is to stop you from getting lost in that crowd?

When the whole world is against you, rallying for your downfall, who is beside you, teaching you how to stand tall and proud on your own?

Winters come and go, yet life never changes. Only the people in it change, for what is life, "but a stage, and all men and women merely players."