In the words of Dylan Thomas..

Do not go gentle into that good night,

old age should burn and rave at close of day;

rage, rage, against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

because their words had forked no lightning they

do not go gentle into that good night.

Those are the first two verses of the wonderful poem. And I've taken the whole thing to heart. Never again will I go gentle, I promise you that.

Hello, December. It's been a while. (:

I can't believe I'm blogging again. I didn't post anything the entire November. I guess I've been busy, and really tired. I hate school! I wish I could just sleep all day and read all night. Yes, in that specific order. I swear to god. I mean, whoaaa.

And in celebration of my epic return to the blogosphere.. I'll reiterate a few choice moments of December, shall I?

Yesterday was.. well.. it wasn't totally crappy, but December's been greeting me ugly the past few years, and the streak hasn't died. It isn't quite a wildfire, more of a sleepy old flame that stays alive because it firmly believes it has the right to.

I don't know why, but something about the start of the very last Brr month leaves a chill in my soul, and takes the tingles from my spine. (Punny, and painful, and.. pah. Haha)

Hrm. I'm just glad I have Brie right now, to fix me up. Oh, and Kingsley! Hahaha. Also, the current project that I shall devote all my spare time to, just because I can. X3 I wonder..

I'm sorry. I can't help it; I've gotta fight back.

Y'know I could let myself be really harsh and cruel right now; I could say things that would wound, just because I can, just because I know how, just because I want to feel that immensely pleasurable thrill that I cannot deny comes from knowing I can hurt. But I won't, because I'm trying to cut out that part of my soul already. It's difficult, yeah, but c'mon, do you really think I give a fuck? Was I ever the type to take the easy way out when it was just so much more fun to let myself get set on fire and sing to the world that it was worth it to go out in flames? Jeez.

My words carried me away, and now there is nothing left, not even ashes. I can't help myself, and I don't think heaven is willing to.