Maybe it's the way the city outside these walls continues to busy itself with its comings and goings while the people within the confines of this house slip under fuzzy comforters in an effort to swathe themselves from the cold. The way my uncle keeps bringing up the apocalypse during meal times,  how fanatics and ordinary people alike are talking about the 21st of December and how even the priests are preaching about the repentance of sin and the third coming of Jesus Christ. How the little voice in my mind keeps whispering,  "Not yet, not yet. I want to go to college first. I want to see the world. I want to do things with my life."

This afternoon I took an entrance examination  and if all goes well, I'll be moving here before freshman year starts. All I can think of is leaving home for another, adjustment, cold and sleepless nights, caffeine dependency, mountains of readings, and terror-inducing professors. Survival, and again, change. I'll be finding myself back here in no time at all. 

While I'm typing this right now the clock on the computer says twelve am but all I want  is a steaming mug of coffee with cinnamon sprinkled on top, a pair of fuzzy, colored socks, the name of the third year Communication Arts student I struck up a conversation with earlier this afternoon, and not to have to go home and drag myself to school tomorrow. I'm thinking about how crappy it feels to sit and watch two people fall in love with each other and envelope themselves in a happiness bubble where you're not invited and you try to be alright about it and glad for them but all you can do is wish it was you instead. 

But then you remember how there's a lot more to life than what you can see now and so much better things in store if only you believe that it is so. So if you can't be happy for them then you can just be happy for yourself. 

Fifteen days till Christmas. All I want for Christmas is something I can hold on to. 

And books.