Countdown to Christmas and New Year has always been the liveliest time of year. Not for me, not for me. I'm an exception. It's always one step different with me. I believe it has been almost five long years of celebrating the holidays alone, and although I may not be sincerely miserable, there is no denying a tinge of hurt in my sensitivity. Now is the first time I get to be with my 'loved ones,' if for some mocking chance that pair of words truly exist, and I feel that rabid urge to cling on to whatever it is that was left of the past analogies I had of life and growing up. In other and simpler words, I just want to be alone. I don't want to be with them. Not that I hate them, well, I do a little bit, but still. I want to go somewhere else if possible. I want to live life as it should be lived, and that constant denial of joy will never go unanswered especially when part of me is involved in it. I guarantee there will be anything but peace on Earth during this year-ender special. It's like a marathon of soap operas you see on telly before they move on to all the others for the upcoming year. A sort of recap of anything and everything. The good and the bad, the memorables and forgettables. This is not a laughing matter anymore. This is torture at best. No amount of reconciliation will mend this. Not even by an ounce, a stone (don't even know what kind of measuring figure is this and how much in other terms, damn Britain), or an inch. My term is over and it has helped me deal with people hard and strong, not as physically, mind you, and that points where my respect has gone. Frustrations have moved on from one aisle to another, creeping back and forth looking for an enabling addict like a pusher. These have been my inspirations. The essence of my ambition. The workaround between sanity and suicide, whichever works for your convenience. It has never been fully realized. This melodrama is addictive, it guts you, hacks you, yet loves you. Reminds me of one Jesus. Who was born a week from now two thousand years ago (debatably).
Dark, darker, darkest, there is no difference. All hurts the same. Pain, everlasting, lingering. Pain, day and night. The hours are uncertain. Anything can happen now. Thinking about it hurts. Truth is unreliable. The romance is dead. My heart, it is lost. Unrecoverable, hateful, distrusting. Wishful, perhaps, but I have lost everything before and survived still. This one was special. So special. Embittered, the tip of my tongue tastes. The flavour of my life. Cuisine of kitchens unwanted. It burns, to the heart. I do not understand. I do not understand.