People like to pretend like authors of dystopian fiction are one of two things (normally both, one after the other): alarmist pessimists who think the sky is falling, or infallible prophets who wrote this world into existence with their amazing soothsaying powers.
In reality, they’re just observant people who see the writing on the walls for what it is: clear warning signs of impending doom.





Yes! Honestly, I love the cold. If it weren’t for the fact that my favorite pass times are swimming and gardening, I’d so happily move somewhere that’s cold all year round. I love bundling up, I love the extra pockets that jackets give me. I love scarfs and the crochet beanies my mom made me when she was still here, and it doesn’t hurt that it’s the only time I think I look decent when I dress like that.
But my GOD the heat stroke when you walk in a store in January. It’s awful