I was doing okay. Pretty good mood. Made cookies. Posted something on a social media site. A happy holidays greeting. Crickets. Does no one wish me a happy holiday anything? Like. Ever? Mood evaporated quicker than belief in love. I know I am not lovable but come on.
Mustn’t dwell on that, right? That’s the message here? Must realize there’s more to blah blah than blah blah? Yep. I have a cat now. That must balance out the notion that I don’t matter at all to anyone ever and never will.
Hello, depression, my old friend, you’ve come to haunt my head again…
I notice my Christmas cheer is non-existent. Raised a Lutheran, so it’s Christmas time to me this time of the year. Oh sure, had the whole nine yards. Two days of food and family, trees and presents. And at times, church. Depending on where we lived or how close we were to the one set of very Lutheran grandparents. Christmas Eve services are when they sing the Christmas carols, by the way. All the verses! I might not like Christmas that much but dang, I sure do like belting out the carols.
I have been listening to various Christmas albums as I work on a screenplay about necrophilia. Yes, you read that correctly.
Annie Lennox, surprisingly, has a gorgeous one out. I had no idea she’d done a holiday album. A Christmas Cornucopia. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen is my fave cut from that. Also one of my fave carols. O Holy Night as well ranks as one of my fave carols—the melody just thrills. Hearing a great singer belt that out…dang-a-lang-a-ding-dong.
I just wish to avoid relatives and all that. I have no wish to force myself to be social or friendly or just sit there like a loveless lump stuffing my face with food and drink so I don’t start screaming. I am rather done with humanity at this point. I guess they are done with me as well.
If I go by my social media posts. Which you shouldn’t, I’ve read.
I just meant this to be a breezy little holiday screed. The best of intentions, eh?
Happy holidays, however you celebrate or don’t.