They didn't die from the cold without, They died from the cold within. It s funny how things fall into place, as if a flurry of unseen hands were constantly adjusting the strings that determine our every action. While we struggle to find our way as if we have any say in the control of our lives. It doesn't have any feelings. It is a dead tree.
Color words are cheap.
Thin watery paint over crude wood . You would have to sit in it to know how truly hard it is. It is very uncomfortable. It is falling apart. Someday I will have to buy a new one.