Ah Bumhug, almost christmas. Not that everyone celebrates it of course. IF you dont voluntarily celibate crust mast, then you are morally wrong and you deserve to die. Scrooge is my homeboy. He didn't do no got dam ting rong. I wish i had a shell. Like Turtles and snails.

Shadows envelop me till i am none as i lay here in melancholy. my anxieties perpetuate. The unlistening ear, barricaded out of sight. When it listens, it does not understand. This seems far, much further. There is anybody out there, but no one to fully grasp at my message, and i try not to despair nonetheless, but i feel it slipping away.

This discomfort is inherent to what is yet to be discovered and solved, i yearn to be of some use to society at large. In all due respect, i am not fit for humanitarian jobs, and my aloofness and direct tone exemplify this. I am always accumulating knowledge on a variety of subjects, and hope that i can in turn put it to a good use. The concerned and despaired look on my face is this exact realization. I can not share my exact feelings, as they are quick to overwhelm me into a state of hollow melancholy.