What's the point

As you cross your arms, hugging yourself to the cold, perhaps it's the rain outside, maybe it's the something you drink; that cold seeps through your shoes, invading your toes. It is as if you are frozen within a shell of yourself, a mere millimeters of ice crust, your fingers feel as though they are mildly wet, stiff and cold, your soul shivering within them, trying to escape from the cold. Where is the refuge to be sought in? As you dive in between your blankets, you realise that your blankets are cold, and to warm yourself, you have to warm the blankets first.