late night mutterings.

This year has been an important year.

 Nothing can quite match up to the continued extravagance that has been this year.

And now at this unearthly hour, dulled by the searing cold, I feel strangely situated and adrift at the same time. There is staid contentment, laced with a tinge of melancholia- of roads not taken and words not uttered -of bridges not burnt and quests, hurriedly abandoned midway.

But above all, there is hope that next year will be as extravagant as this one.