Christmas Eve

Our tree [with gifts for dad & I]

Left my new journal at mom's, so this will have to do for now...This Christmas Eve has, of course, ended up just like every other one. Dad has passed out in his chair after smoking a pack of cigarettes, drinking half a keg, and downing his pain meds. I'm stealing internet from the neighbors and decorating the tree. I already went out and bought us some food as I refuse to eat the crap he has in the freezer. I'm glad he didn't forget, though! Tomorrow morning should be better; mornings are always the best. Then it will be off to the mother's for her side of the family's Christmas. That is always interesting. I'm hoping to get my scarf done so I can wear it soon :D

Yes. Just collecting them. That's all. #sarcasm #idiots

A few days of mindless gaming have done me well. :]

“Passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. It is not about feeling good. It is about endurance. Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does not mean to flow with exuberance. It means to suffer.”

—	Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves

Who has never killed an hour? Not casually or without thought, but carefully: a premeditated murder of minutes. The violence comes from a combination of giving up, not caring, and a resignation that getting past it is all you can hope to accomplish. So you kill the hour. You do not work, you do not read, you do not daydream. If you sleep it is not because you need to sleep. And when at last it is over, there is no evidence: no weapon, no blood, and no body. The only clue might be the shadows beneath your eyes or a terribly thin line near the corner of your mouth indicating something has been suffered, that in the privacy of your life you have lost something and the loss is too empty to share.

“You’ll likely notice that the real world does have this interesting mix of, like, crushing monotony and paralyzing terror. There’s the crushing monotony of waking up at the same time, sitting in the same traffic, going to the same job, and then coming home to pay the same bills with your only distractions being, like, television and video games and YouTube. But there’s also the constant paralyzing terror of knowing that if you somehow screw up sitting in traffic or working at your job or paying your rent, you will be homeless and hungry and alone.”

—	John Green

My thoughts about my upcoming History and Structure final:

Beyond that...it's now well over a week past my birthday. My father has officially forgot. Again. I know this isn't a surprise to me anymore, but it's still a little disappointing. I had a professor ask me today if I would've preferred to have brothers/sisters and I almost selfishly said yes. Then I sort of thought about it and decided I would never want anyone else to have had to go through the shit I did. And of course, then I said that. Meh.

Come home soon, Tessa? Now?