and 34 days later i'm back. i suppose i cant help being morbid.

or something.

this is my rant, pay no heed.

what's the freaking point in pouring out your heart and soul into gifts for those close to you - and even those not so close - if they're not going to CARE. yeshyesh christmas is not about materials its about the thought. but what freaking thought. when christmas comes around, the universal language of love turns more to gifts. its not the material. its... the love? i'd rather get a thoughtful card than a generic bath set. where is the love in that? 

what is the point in spending money, braving the mall on christmas eve TWICE, and staying up late wrapping... if your boyfriends is going to give you 4 cookies. maybe i asked for it, but i can't help feeling disappointed. i can't help... wondering. why not just a little note or card? sighh...

they know i am hollowed. but they have no idea to the extent of which my pain reaches. there's just nothing left to take away. and yet... every time i recover a little, i lose even more.

empty heart and mind and sky.
swallow a pre-emptied soul,
close lifeless eyes.

pain is just a feeling to get used to. like frustration and loneliness and bitterness. you just.... get used to it.