There are times when I am so humbled by the world around me.

I find that this happens the most these days when I am driving, and the radio is on, and it is either close to dark, or the beginning of day. It's very rarely anything spectacular - god knows there is very little that is truly spectacular about this city that I live in - but more just snow on trees, or light on water, sun/moonlight on surfaces; things that we see every day, but don't always register in our minds, how beautiful they can be. It's a very solitary thing too, because I'm usually by myself, and I swear sometimes it feels like those moments where certain things catch my eye and then I catch my breath, it's like those moments were kind of sort of made just for me to see. At least at that time, you know?

My life right now, as with almost everyone, is like a roller coaster ride in the dark; it's up and it's down and it's fast and it's slow and it's heavy with anticipation and then laden with relief - it's terrifying and it's exhilarating, and through it all, there's no telling where it's headed. Currently things are confusing, complicated, and generally depressing. Mostly because of the time of year, when everything is supposed to be, you know, magic and lights and excitement and shit. But I have a family somewhat disjointed, collection agencies threatening legal action against me for monies owed, an apartment I can't afford that reminds me every day of another life, one where I was both happier and more miserable, but at least it was ours together; it's nothing like what it's supposed to be, which gets me down sometimes, but I am still thankful for all that I do have. My drives through the city that are mine and mine alone make it all the better.

I was out for pancakes with my mum, and we saw this big huge table set up for a large group. We both groaned and rolled our eyes, and hoped to god that we'd be finished before they started showing up. Alas, we weren't, and soon they started to assemble, trickling in one family at a time, eventually forming a mass of parkas, hugs, Christmas-tree earrings, and brightly coloured sweaters. It was obviously a Christmas family reunion, and soon it was loud with conversations about plane rides, Christmas concerts, and exclamations of how good everyone looked. Being the generally sour and bitter individual that I am, I was still resentful of the level of noise they were emitting in my fairly immediate pancake-eating space, but I couldn't help but smile inwardly at how perfect it was. Like right out of a story book, a dark snowy night with a family coming together in a warm place for the holidays.

Merry Christmas, I guess.