Sexy Sadie, It's Christmas

And baby it's cold outside, so I chose to stay indoors and lock myself. 

And looped Champagne Supernova until all my tears dried up on their own and until the spinning stopped inside my head. 



Is it too late to post Merry Christmas? 

It took a while for me to post this because I knew most of you won't read it-- a lot of you probably were busy wrapping presents, cooking Noche Buena or spending time with your love ones that you only get to see for a small span of days within a year. 

Merry Christmas. 

It's odd. I don't feel Christmas like how I used to feel it when I was a child. I don't know whether it's because I have no mom anymore or if it's just how you're suppose to feel when you slowly pace growing up. I spent Christmas at work (again) and I took the liberty of spreading the love left in me by buying Kisses and giving it to some of the people who'd enjoy it. I figured that if I can't make myself happy on Christmas, I'd rather make other people's day less bitter. 

I bought lilies for mom's altar. The florist sold it for a cheap price because he said it's the season for giving--

--giving discounts. Then I opened all my presents. When I was young, the joy of unwrapping presents were nothing compared to actually seeing what's inside. Now, I really don't give a fvck on what's inside because I know what I want for Christmas and it can't be put inside a box or wrapped with a ribbon; this year's Christmas made me realize that everything is inevitable.

The joy. 
The sadness. 
The excitement. 
The pain. 
The laughter. 
The tears. 

Certain [especially bad] things are meant to be felt even if you try to escape it. And I learned that if you attempt to trick your brain that everything will be okay, eventually you will be. Yet it's sad because you know deep down that you're cheating on life and you're really not okay. And the funny part is that everyone thinks you're winning but you realize there wasn't a game in the first place. 

Point is, the more I grow up, the less material things I want from Santa.

This post doesn't make any sense anymore.

Ugggh. I'll end with this thought: The Beatles is on Spotify. I'm fucking happy.




You're welcome.


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