Humbug.

I have a lot of thoughts going through my mind at the monent, several of them which would be good for a blog post or a poem, but alas, they have absolutely nothing to do with Christmas. And not only that, but they are not the least bit jolly or merry or even lighthearted.

It is not fair that just because it’s a few days until Christmas, I can’t write about those things. It’s enough to make a person hate the lead-up to Christmas (because I still can’t hate Christmas, I mean come on).

How come that is, eh? My brain does not work in holidays or themes or one mood at a time. My brain does not conjure nice poetry about Christmas coming (although it has in years past…), or about winter, or anything like that. No. Instead, today, it got a few good ideas that involved nothing short of poison, conspiracies, moon phases, and housing developments. 
In short, nothing to do with Christmas. 

But still very intriguing matters that need written about. 

Humbug.
-Pen

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