You are familiar, perhaps, with the small refrigerator magnets which are white and have a conglomeration of words on them? I love them. I think that I would like to have a refrigerator just so that I can have one with words all over it.

I have been working on a poem each time I stop in to Jax's for a few moments and though I thought it was completed last Sunday when I was there for five minutes, I think tonight marks the real completion. And so I give you, my poem:

Could Be Over
Our Other Time
Bring From Age
In Bright Sublime
When Winter Break
Spring Should Unite
Afternoon's Kind Rain
Until Summer White
Her Kindred Heaven
Grace Thy Birth
Together We Are
Each By Earth

I realize it makes no sense, and any good poet would simply smile and shrug, thinking himself above the thoughts of meager men, and derive some superfluous meaning just so he could be validated, if only in his own mind. But, I am not a good poet, therefore I have found no meaning, nor will I. I did have fun though. As any good poet should.

Sometimes I wish that we could all dig into the brains of those who surround us and make up the society of people which encompass us. If I knew exactly what you were thinking, when you said that, when you wrote that, when you went there, I think I could somehow understand mans need for validation so much more. I you knew exactly why I wrote this, why I said that or why I like pears and why I don't like peanut butter, I think we could understand the nature of man more succinctly. It makes no sense to you why I simply don't like peanut butter, or why I have a list of things I haven't done and won't, or why I have a list of things that I will do someday after a possible wedding, but I know. I can tell you why exactly I don't like peanut butter, it sticks to the roof of my mouth. It never spreads on what it should spread on evenly. It smells strange. I just don't like it. That is why we are different, you and I. Because we know things about ourselves that no one else knows, or if they do, they can't know exactly how we do ourselves.

So when I see death as an opportunity for growth and Disneyland as an opportunity for a headache, excuse me for being rude please. I'm not purposely being so, it's just the way I see it. For now. I guess.

My family, mum and four of my brothers, are leaving for two weeks in Pennsylvania on Saturday. They will not return until the 22nd of December, which means this Christmas season will be lonely without them. I plan on buying a tree next week, maybe Sean will come with me. Jax will. We will put it in the front windows and decorate it while listening to Bing and Ella. Maybe I will make some wassail. Some gingerbread men? I will light candles and sort through lights and bulbs. We will laugh and maybe we'll just be together. But something will still be missing. Who will put the star on the top of the tree?

I will miss them.