Hello, out there, world. Are you still there? I'm still here, stranded in desolate, barren Minnesota. It has been nearly 200 days between the first snowfall of this season and today, and I fear I shall not last much longer in this godforsaken wasteland. It is April 18th and yet another winter storm has ravaged the state, leaving me with little hope of ever being warm again.
I have fought as hard as I can to keep my wits about me, despite the fact that the weather gods have been relentless in their efforts to suffocate my soul under heavy piles of snow. Finding water has proven to be quite simple, but there have been no signs of wildlife. I worry that it is only a matter of time before grass dies for good and flowers refuse to grow. If there ever is even a thaw.
This hibernation period has lasted much longer than I expected, and my supplies are nearly depleted. I have ventured out to restock, but was so overwhelmed by how complicated everything was and how long everything took that I failed to retrieve many of the essentials.
My mental facilities are beginning to fail me. I have resorted to engaging in several acts of superstition purely out of desperation. I purchased ice cream in an attempt to reset the elements and fool them into warming up. I pulled in my Merry Christmas doormat that I have kept in front of my door as a funny way of touting traditions and to make my neighbors think I'm weird. But I finally took it inside just in case that is the one thing keeping Spring from knocking on my door. So far, my efforts have been - like the ice-covered trees - fruitless.
Today the snow came down first as a dewy mist, then soon after it changed to sleet and then finally it changed back to snow. That was 12 hours ago. And I was just about to start sawing through my arm to escape this hellhole when the howling wind outside subsided just long enough for me to regain some composure and turn my space heater on.
If anyone is reading this, there must surely still be life out there. There must be people, thriving in the lush greenery of nature, wearing cute shoes with no socks, grilling out, needing sunglasses to keep the bright sun away. I must keep hope that the sun has not burned out and that some day I too shall feel the warmth on my skin again and be able leave the house without gloves, snow boots and an umbrella. It must change. It simply must.
I shall do my best to keep sending messages from this deserted tundra. It is the only thing keeping me connected to the outside world. That is, if there IS still an outside world...