If you were to ask me around three months prior to this post, to settle with a choice between family and friends, I would have picked the latter. But now, after an amount of self-debate, I tell myself that (oh the cliche) family comes first.

No offense though. I do appreciate the company of the people who accepts me for whom I appear to their eyes, despite not sharing the same blood or having more than a couple of years of bonding. I really do. It's just, my mind is a rerun of worst case scenarios and one particular playback that involves my family returning to the Maker in the foreseeable future forces me to feel an emotion similar to having an icepick stab my throat repeatedly, without mercy.

Sure at times when they reduced me to a status that of a pariah, I feel like taking a really thick English-English dictionary and just pummel their gdamn heads with it, but that's family. They make you feel like committing a massacre, followed a suicide but then, they make you feel like you belong in a family-picture-that-comes-with-the-frame, or in other words, content right at home.

So, just a thought in 1 a.m. on a Monday.