Did I miss the deadline of my own jam by almost 3 months? No, this does not happen, I have everything under control... (misses the deadline and the right season, to be continued)

Just kidding, I am the best
I am DJ, I don't dance
I'm cool, I'm ice and I roll the dice! (the spinning wheel, you know if you saw that jam)
*If you recognize these lines, we should get some help together

This is based off the song "Northern Attitude" by Noah Kahan.

She looks like me irl because I relate to the chorus:

If I get too close
And I'm not how you hoped
Forgive my northern attitude
Oh, I was raised out in the cold
If the sun don't rise
'Til the summertime
Forgive my northern attitude
Oh, I was raised on little light

The fog above her head represents the beginning of the song: "Breathin' in, breathin' out". This is how breathing looks like on the coldest days.
She's wearing winter clothes because the song is about winter and the cover reminded me of this kind of a sweater (even though it doesn't appear there).
The beige comes from the album cover and the color of dead trees and mud.
The wrench in her pocket is an inside joke about something that happened at my school and a reference to "You build a boat, you build a life".
The watch is a symbol of routine ("You settle in to routine"), I don't know if I have used it before or I just spent a lot of time planning this skin.
She's wearing a ring, it's a messy way of showing the multiple mentions of wife in the song.

I know that I'm posting this late. The summertime, when the sun rises has come. Fresh green grass grows on the concrete debris behind my block and the post-apocalyptic old bridge will be soon covered by white petals.
Even though I don't feel it so deeply now, the chorus explains my reality well. Seasonal depression is real. Now I'm active everywhere and enjoying every single moment of my life, but in the darker months I struggle to wake up every day and do what I'm supposed to do.
Now I greet everyone with a smile, but in winter I can only think

"About that formlessness, about that boiling shapelessness that pours constant anxiety and a feeling of danger into the veins, like a drip. [...] About that inability and impossibility, that always reminds us that we would want so much but it somehow fucking fails and gives us an extraordinary feeling of pain of existence. About waking up in the morning, sighing and saying "oh fuck" because behind the heavy curtains doesn't wait a sunshine, but an even harder day"
(it's my quick translation of a quote from Ziemowit Szczerek that I wrote in my diary in October and it illustrates my mental condition of that time)