>A few moments ago I was peacefully sleeping, dreaming of things I’d rather not say out loud, when I abruptly woke up to the sound of something crashing on the floor. My heart is still racing. I’m not the kind to get scared, because I honestly do not believe in ghosts or dwarfs or the tooth fairy, or whatever the hell people like to believe exists beyond the realm of us mortals. Fuck that, if ghosts actually existed, I would have seen one already. Although… that book “accidentally” falling to the floor from the shell where it peacefully lay, and had laid for months until now, made me kind of reconsider my stance on the whole ghosts thing.
Come to think about it, I guess that was life’s little alarm clock waking me up to let me know… Yay!!! it’s officially Christmas Eve!!! Well, way to fucking wake me up. I can’t imagine a better way to open your eyes than to the feel of a heartattack raking your body. Way to fucking go, life.
Now, with the imminent coming of the holidays, and Santa being up in my grill and Christmas carols stalking me everywhere -even my iTunes, I guess the logical next step right now would be to express the giddiness and joy that Christmas evokes in this individual, aka me. Not this time. Other than the usual feeling of loneliness that overcomes me, especially in holidays like this, I don’t really feel motivated enough to even wake up tomorrow. Yes, I am a deeply troubled person and I need therapy. One that does not involve spending outrageous amounts of money and the acquisition of heaps of highly unnecessary items of clothing. One that doesn’t involve snobby sushi bars either. But, really, what is Christmas about?
Apparently, this is a Western holiday brought to us by our European colonizers, which is supposed to represent the birth of Jesus, one of the highest figures in most Western religions. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I gave up on religion long ago. And I really hate colonization and what those European bastards did to us and our beautiful lands and our culture. Excuse me, but turning us into a society devoid of a cultural heritage, which attempts to leave its cultural mark in the world with shitty movies made by big fat greedy corporate assholes, and cute handcrafts made by poor, underestimated natives, is not the way to bring enlightenment to the savage Americas. So, really, I have no reason whatsoever to celebrate Christmas. Yet I can’t help feeling utterly fucking lonely and emotional. Because those people on the streets with their bags full of Christmas presents, and their tables all set with enough food for a whole month, and their apparent love for one another and best wishes and motherfucks… well, they’re to blame. Christmas is infectious, it’s like the flu. And who can escape it, when everywhere you turn there’s a TV set sneezing the virus straight at you with all those crappy made-for-TV Christmas movies and cheesy cartoon shows. Now I’m overeating in the name of Christmas, I’m listening to overly stupid songs about red-nosed reindeers and little drummer boys, and I’m receiving presents, which are supposed to represent love and affection and gratitude. I don’t believe in receiving presents. I’m awkward and I don’t know what to do with myself eighty percent of the time when I’m in the presence of other humans. And don’t get me wrong, it’s not lack of gratitude of my part either. It’s just a profound lack of words to express myself with… as if, out of the trillions of words I could use to say ‘hey, thanks a lot, man,’ I find myself thinking way too much, and they all escape me. This is not an exclusive Christmas thing. But yes, it’s especially intensified during holidays involving presents. I hate this, because every time I’m faced upon situations such as this, I realize what a failure I am when it comes to interacting with people.
I don’t even remember what the point of this long, useless rant was anymore, because that’s just how fucking clueless I usually am about things, but… I think what I was trying to say is that, I have a conflictive, love-hate relationship with Christmas. I don’t know what the point of it is really, as I have already given enough reasons why I should NOT celebrate it, and I still do, sort of, because everyone else does, and that makes me conventional and lackluster.
Yet… something about the nonsensical magic associated with the whole month of December, and all the goodness it represents, even in a fantastic, completely surreal kind of way, is enough for me to bring out the inner, not-so-secret-child within me and rejoice. Bottom line: I love Christmas, but hate what humans have turned it into.
So, as a way to remain sane until the month comes to an end, I hereby vow that I will NOT indulge in pointless Christmas shopping and binge-eating, and Carol-singing and Christmas-tree-staring. I have enough nonsense on my plate already, thank you very much.
OK, now… A special thanks to all my lovely friends, who have done the impossible to make me feel less miserable this week, which has sucked more than usual thanks to you people and your fucking ‘it’s Christmas, let’s make everyone who’s lonely feel like crap’ togetherness. In all my holiday blues and my bitterness, I can still thank you guys, because I don’t care how you celebrate the birth of Jesus or whatever, I still love you chunks. Thank youuuuuuuu, for the lovely present, and for making Christmas suck less today. Now every time I log onto my last.fm account, I will remember that there are still a few charming, thoughtful men out there. Thanks to today’s sushi crew -I have sushi up in my brain right now, I can’t even think straight. I had fun today. I don’t know how I’ll feel tomorrow, when everyone’s sharing wonderful Kodak moments with their respective families and I’m lonely with my insane Poodle, but today was just nice.
I’m much calmer now. The book remains spread open (on page 347, from what I can see from over here) on my floor, and fuck me if I get out of my warm bed to pick it up. My bet is, the book is ridden with Christmas elves and tinkerbells and shit and if I do so much as get near it, it will infest me with its dumbass Christmas retardation and I’ll be leaving cookies and milk for Santa and hanging a stocking on the fireplace.
Now would be the perfect time to admit that I am actually scared about that damn book falling. Also, I guess I must confess I had too many apple martinis tonight and my thoughts at the moment are anything but coherent.
A present, because despite being a total fucking bitch about Christmas, I’m still sort of nice.
By the way, I’m still waiting for your small holiday gift, Trent Reznor.
Listening to: Love Spirals Downwards – Will You Fade
Eating: Regurgitating sushi. Yuck.