So, here I am. Here again. Dwelling in the very words and HTML code of this very diary that has helped shape exactly who or what I really am. The very strands of DNA mixed with other genetic genes to produce this shapeshifter. This loose cannon. The rebel. This revolutionist. This soul of a poor man who has been thrown many obsticles this past year..
Its Christmas day. Woopdie fucking do. The time where little spoiled kids run downstairs to take sneak peeks of their nice wrapped gifts. Then then go to sleep, as told to, so they can dream of all the wonderful toys santa has given them. They wake up crack of dawn, awaken by jolly christmas music and the smell of freshly baked cookies. The kids jump in excitement and run down those yellow bricked steps and bypass their parents, headed straight for the christmas tree. One by one toys are being stripped of their nicely wrapped paper and tasteful non-appreciated ribbons and they cry in sheer shock. They may do a little victory dance or compare to how more awesome their toy is comparing to their siblings toys are. And if they are the only child, they will compare this years gifts to last...and for the parents sake, the child give an approving smile or nod. The rest of the day consists of cleanup and visiting family. Typical christmas for a typical family. But THIS year isn't so typical....
In time, those kids learn that there really isn't such thing as Santa Claus. There isn't any magical flying reindeer. There aren't any toy elfs. There won't be a fat white man coming down your fucking chimney with a green sack of toys. Its all just a hoax. an imagination in some other altered parrallel universe that parents use to manipulate kids with.
I'm bitter cause I found out the hard way.
I'm alone. With no family to celebrate christmas with. No holiday spirit. No holiday cheer. No smiles and warm hugs and fresh cookies and happy christmas music. Just the gut wrenching feeling of being alone with a bowl of capt'n crunch, a tv and a remote control...along side a big bottle of vodka.
People don't understand that christmas isn't all about gifts. They sometimes complain. And bitch and gripe. For them, people caring enough to purchase presents and spend time with them is not enough. For me, that's the best gift anyone could give me.
All I got is midnight. That's it.
-
Recent entries:
- - 2019-04-28
- - 2019-04-28
- - 2019-02-22
Smile - 2018-03-20
Not all heroes wear capes - 2018-02-25
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