Winter = blasé

I could have handled all of this so much better.
I find myself, right next to Christmas again already, wondering how it's possible that I've spent almost a year in the same frame of mind (or so it feels). I guess a lot has taken place this year and I've made a plentitude of significant decisions. And I've progressed from the initial stage of being shocked that I still exist upon return to this country, and in more of the same manner of existing than I would have hoped.
I'm in the library right now, since I no longer have Nate's computer at my house and prefer not to spend my own money on one. It smells like french fries in here and I can't seem to find a single book that peaks my interest even remotely. This does interfere with my plan on going to Henry's after this for a cup of coffee and a solitary hour reading my enrapturing new library book.
I thought that living here, being so much closer geographically to my roots and home than India was, would be comfortable and freeing, and it probably could be. But I'm starting to feel like I drag the same feelings around with me no matter what the context is and that no life will feel like mine until I figure out what, barring geographic elements, feels so alien and smothery at the same time.
This post is the evidence of why I haven't written lately - It's hard to make a lot of sense. Please feel free to recommend good books.