Harmony Devoured

So there it goes, yuletide's furry backside disappearing over the horizon taking the sickly baubels and sugar highs with it. Skin the reindeer, papa wants roast! In plain speak? Im happy Christmas has buggered off, its like coming up for air after a week lurking in the depths of Swiss Valley reservoir. Don't get me wrong, its great if you have children, creating special memories you had as a child (some children are not that lucky of course) but for me? Im happy its gone. And it used to arrive with such a potent buzz that no drug could ever hope to match. When out delivering cards with my late mother, I swore I could hear bells ringing from the star freckled night sky, there was a mystic energy that only children posses but alas it has left this rust bucket I call a soul, magic at zero and doubt it will ever return.
Arrives with age some would say but I'd wager that even the hardest Ebenezer Scroodge had at least heard a Christmas carol or watched a television "classic" during the festivities.
Want to know something? I didn't. Dim byd. Nothing. Not even a sniff of a mince pie. To my mind (and this is important because it was only in my company, with loved ones it was different) Christmas day might well have been a rainy weekend down the /Mumbles. Ah dear Mumbles! Escaping the silly season might seem impossible to most but I swear its doable. I just did it and to be fair, I wish a pill existed to get the spirit and excitement back but take enough happy tablets and you'll know that even chemical rainbows have limits.
So again it goes with a nary a farewell and no alchemy can ever dress bones. Its been a blast throughout those milky years, almost was the perfect drug, a never ending agent of harmony but one day all magic dies and for me (just me I hope), I can be happy with that. And I am perfectly happy.


*Please forgive the often heavy spirit this post was written in. I assure you gentle reader that everything is fine in the funhouse. Dark lines always make for better scenes and in family company the scene was different.

Everybody Having Fun?

The Silly Season is here, roll out the carols! Fair enough, why not? I enjoy a good Christmas carol as much as the next person but some of the lyrics are enough to send Mormons to the scotch. For instance: "Now here it is Merry Christmas, everynodys having fun." No, just no. There is no 'feelgood' vibe there, not really. If you were to take away the extremely catchy music all you'd be left with is a wet fart of assembled words, empty of anything sincere and promising...well not much.
Its rather like saying, "I like putting baked beans in jacket potatoes, you do too!" Then adding a sappy "groovy" at the end.
Everybodys having fun? Surely not EVERYBODY? Even the homeless? The ones in warzones? Lonely people at their wits end? Pensioners struggling to heat their homes? Those unfortunates who have been made redundant weeks before Christmas? Lost souls crushed by addiction who see dying as a good option? Genuine disabled folks who have had their benefits cut? (And like the addicts see death as a better way.) Abused children who are beaten and raped by real life monsters?
The longer list I trot out, the heavier I feel my fingers hitting the keyboard, angry and saddened by the fact that no, not everyone is having fun at all. Not by a long shot. I realise Christmas carols must be sickly cheerful and sugar coated with dreamy sentiments, and its nice to be able to escape for a bit but lets not ever forget that its ESCAPING we are doing. The jolly-carol-festive-world is Shangria La. Enjoy but dont forget (I know some will have by the end of reading this) that Christmas doesn't give us all a means to hide for a while and it isn't always icing sugar on mince pies (or whatever that sugary stuff is.)
Of course this post is not meant to be taken as some astounding revelation, and neither is it to put a dampner on peoples festivities. Its just here as a simple reminder, this is all. Enjoy and remember your fellow man!

Victorian Postage (Christmas Black)

I have had a very old fashioned Christmas, almost Victorian by some standards. Indeed were it not for spinning around the globe via the teh interwebz and tapping out pretty words on my new laptop, it could have been 1850 in my household. Christmas television? I didn't watch it (even missed my usual Corrie). Films? I watched the original King Kong on Christmas day and that was it as far as movies went. I didn't pull a cracker, or stuff my face with mince pies and neither was I eating turkey sandwiches for four days straight after the event. (We have goose as I cannot abide turkey, a dreadfully bland meat if ever there was one).
To be honest I have not felt festive at all, and were it not for family the decorations would have remained in the boxes. I realise I sound like a terrible damp feather but this is how its been this year. Its not been totally 'oubliette fever' of course but the magic spark that used to set me off and get my enthusiasm going has dimmed a wee bit. Might be that I could attribute some of that to losing the person who put me on this earth and who always made Christmas so special, and there is that but I also feel like I have outgrown it too.