Cool weather. Rain. Storm. Typhoon. Whatever it is that runs havoc in the environment, I am unconcerned. I've my own battle to conquer too than think how the environment would be torn into pieces for the next 10 hours.

It's Christmastime and I am shrinking. I'm used to it anyway. Each end of the year, it feels like something deep inside is slowly disintegrating. Empty. Missing. Wretched. But it will come to pass anyway just like each year. So this little weird feeling is nothing but just a vicious cycle. Like those damaging typhoons that made a regular visit to the country as the year approaches its final phase.

The feel of the holiday rush looks like invading my system in a different way. I feel sorry about myself and begin to recount years of my life where I have to wish something. Something that could never be realized. It's pretty sad to finally accept the fact that I am destined for nothing.


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