So this morning I woke up with the intense urge to write. To just put fingers to keys and thoughts to screen, even though, to quote Augustus Waters, "My thoughts are stars I can't fathom into constellations." It's like there are a thousand colours, a thousand musical notes all rushing around in my skull, dancing and whispering and singing in a language that is just beyond my cusp of hearing.

It's very quiet. everybody is either asleep, or gone. It's cold, too. My house is filled with artificial heat, but I can tell that if I stepped outside, my skin would turn to gooseflesh and my breath would make clouds in their own miniature sky.

I've been thinking a lot recently. And singing a lot, and writing a lot, and talking a lot less. It seems that nothing worth talking about is being talked about, so I can't share my mind with others. So I'll write a poem, or draw a picture, or mutter to myself until the words come out right. I've found that I rather like words. It's gotten to the point where, if I close my eyes, I can see them. They look like water, or ribbons, or dust that's caught up in sunlight, or the sun beams themselves. They writhe and twirl and give suggestions as to what they could mean. Colour gives their tone. Red for confusion, a tumbling grey for nostalgia, and metaphors and hidden meanings glide by in a blue that is somehow both electric, and the deepest blue you will ever see.

It's three days until Christmas, but somehow, I don't feel very cheerful. I don't feel the breathless excitement that I used to around this time of year. It's not the same. I miss home. I miss it so much, it physically hurts. It's been almost a year since we moved out, but I still haven't finished unpacking. I can't, because that would mean that this is home. It would mean that I've given up. And I can't do that. I know that can't stop fighting, but I'm so tired. I'm so, so tired, and I feel like I just can't do this anymore. I don't keep sharp objects around me anymore. If I do, then bad thoughts come into my head, and what if one day, I just can't shake them? I almost didn't, once, but I got scared. I don't think I'll ever be brave enough, so for now, there's nothing to worry about.

Now, I think I have to unpack some boxes.