The cold makes the skin on my lower legs to itch. It could be a condition, or just a mental thing. Anyway I feel like a cabbage, under all this layers. Trying to feel sexy. It is more difficult in the winter. I am done with the bloody reporting, thanks god, I am left with my regular job related rants. The house is a mess, looking more and more like a grotto. Flakes of dust follow me floatingly whenever I move from here to there, navigating through the piles of clothes. These are cast away from the closet, which in its turn craves for reorganization. For the first time in a century I have been out dancing last night. And I am turning into a Christmas hater. I am avoiding emotions, but they haunt me guerrilla like. Loved "Corpse Bride".
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