it's a drab xmas. the ghosts of xmas past are gathered, even if we don't believe in ghosts or xmas. oh, the ghosts are gathering. we say it will be different now, we don't have to celebrate in the old stilted fashion. still we live in the mythological world, now driven by all-encompassing and technologies —to devastation. we're far from creation, or desolated, but stuck in the mítra, the matrix, uterus, womb, cast, venter, labyrinth not of our own making. which reminds me i have to call maw. she's losing her memory. are we all? i couldn't reach her yesterday.