The salt burns my cheeks, and taste like blood as it falls on my lips...

02 November, 2002 || 4:17 pm

You know I'm depressed when I'm eating chocolate and listening to Sinatra, but not happy about it. I'm listening to the Sinatra Christmas cd, and upset that the Reprise Collection is a 4-disk set, and costs $65, whn all I want is disk 4, to hear one song. I should check the library, see if it's there.

This is so depressing. Christmas songs are supposed to be uplifting, dammit. I'll be home for Christmas isn't very happy. I'm practically in tears, here, chomping on mini-Snickers bars and hearing that smooth deep crooning of melancholy yuletide joy. I wish I could just dig a hole and bury myself in it.

I forget what movie it's from, but:

-Where are you going?
--To the river.
-What for?
--To make a hole in it...

I need a tissue. Is it just me, or is every Christmas song in a damn minor key?

"...it seemed a great wonder that the world, which was so large, could sometimes feel so small and empty...[s]he punctuated this last thought with such a deep sigh that a house sparrow singing nearby stopped and rushed home to be with his family."

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