Another year gone by. This one was not anything to be proud of.

30 pounds gained.

I'm not sure how many Stone that is, and I'm not in the mood for conversions.

The future begets the downward spiral.

Snow globes do not portray a world of warmth and hearth. Black, black, black is night and ice litters the aura of my soul.

Crystalline structures of water evaporate on the surface of a heart that loves not but to lock itself away from the world.

The carcass of the snow globe rolls down a flight of steps and into the Manhattan ignorance.

24 steps to a Prelude, but the hike seems impossible when it's shrouded by Chopin's indolent horde.

I am the beast.

Ba Humbug.