I wish all none of you who read this happy holidays and a merry Christmas time with family and friends and people you enjoy having around. I really do.

I know I've been using my blog to bitch a lot about this and that, so I'll try and keep this short while still allowing me to put down my thoughts so that they may not haunt me as they are doing now.

Christmas is the worst.
I don't mean in general, I'm not saying it isn't enjoyable. It just isn't for me, hasn't been in years.

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Alive... the word feels strange, foreign on my tongue. I can pronounce it fine, but what it stands for feels distant, gone almost.
Not because English is my second language, but because lately I've found myself slipping back into old habits and ways of thinking. Dark times.

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Yes, I ultimately decided to no longer hold my position as the silent (proof-)reader, but instead submitted The Guide to the Moon.

This one is special to me in many regards. It has been a year to the day that I started writing it, and it represents my state of mind at that time more than I would like to admit.

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Just a little something I'd like to share... I know I haven't written any story whatsoever yet (or maybe I just haven't found the courage to finally publish it), so in the meantime have some poetry.

Unblinking eyes,
Staring, not seeing,
Asking, not caring,
All the same.

World full of people,
Walking and working,
Dead inside,
Devoid of life.

Not machines,
Yet neither alive,
For being alive
Means to feel.

Blank faces,
Always busy,
Never free,
Slaves of work.

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