christmas is just another day in the year.

i wake up. hobble into my living room with a slight headache from malnutrition. there's no family. there's no tree. there's no joy.

for a moment i am reminded of christmases past. being the outcast asian in a group of white people in chicago. everyone trying to pretend i am one of them. everyone trying to make me feel like part of the group. at least there was a family. at least there was a tree. at least there was joy.

then i am snapped back to the reality of my current situation. i walk to my computer, and start typing. ever had a tear that just wouldn't come out?

my christmas this year consists of two boxes. one from my mom, various christmas paper shredded lying about the box, the only use of anything out of the box was a bag of pistachios and a bar of chocolate. the other box from my aunt karen and uncle marty, obviously giving me a used blanket one of their kids grew didn't want.

don't feel like calling anyone. too depressed. not even my mom.

will i really die alone? life is over-rated. you're staring at a blue screen. at a very blue man. silence is a secret, a weapon in disquise. listen to my silence and open up your eyes. the dream is over. i haven't slept in years. i'm not looking for answers. do you understand? do you understand what you see to be true? tell me who writes the truth. this is my history.

this christmas i will spend cleaning my house. i can't wait to pass the time in my room alone.

merry christmas everyone.