Not very relevent, you see. No, not yet. I'm just here right now to wish all the beauties in prettyland a happy intro to this year's winter. It's odd how I have a thing for personifying everything. I think a thing like Winter would make a lovely portrait. Such inspiration for this is probably brought on by a magazine, no not the kind your father gave you when you turned 11, but the issue of Gothic Beauty. Somehow, I'm sure. Speaking of personification, I haven't worked on my story in like a day or two. It's around four pages on wordpad right now. I just may post it when it's done, but please read with an open mind. I'm most likely about halfway done. You have to get past Self-Pity to complete, yes? Yes. And it'll make sense later children. Self-Pity, I mean. A kind, young Euphoria like myself always makes sense. And yes, even that persona will make sense later, too. But even I do not know the ending to this story's final chapter. For I'll be dead before I can write it. But yes, the time has passed sense October 23, negative time. All the uninformed shall not be uniformed, but be put into form. For now you can put in your third eyelids and see how well you walk on a sea that has long since passed away. And again, Happy Winter, kids. Because I'm nice that way. -December 22