:: Purposeful Death Overhead ::

The holidays always make me feel sad. I don't know why, they shouldn't. They're always about shopping and giving, and recieving, and physical gifts don't matter as long as everything comes from the heart. As long as there is someone to give to.

Sometimes, I feel like such a fat dolt.

I walked through White Flint at five o' clock on Christmas Eve. I rambled through stores, just looking at the things i probably could not afford.

There was a man playing the piano. In the middle of the dark mall. I asked him to play Clair de Lune, but he said he was told only to play Christmas music.

I drove home, listening to Holy Night playing on the radio.

:: Alina 12:09 AM Comments: Post a Comment