So the end of the year finally makes it's visible approach. The scents of Hot cocoa and Evergreen draw near the memories of wonderful Christmas' past. And all I can think of is What a BITCH it is to grow up. I used to LOVE this time of year. It was the stuff dreams are made of. Now I just can't wait for it to be over. The songs are cool for a day or so, then I want to gouge out my eardrums with a rusty gutter nail. Fluffing fake tree branches is complete and total horse shit. The movies are always cute and I can stand them. And snuggling up with one you love is great all year but somehow more fun when it's 20 below zero. But God forbid anyone need something from Target on a Sunday afternoon. Son-of-a-bitch, don't even get me started on department stores. Anyway I guess where I'm wandering with my thoughts is to wish that like in childhood, Christmas was still a time of excitement that 2000 years ago my Saviour was born. Or the joy of Christmas morning burning excitement in my heart until I thought I was gonna explode, Joy so intense that any annoyances of repetitive music, or bitchy store clerks, or suburban soccer moms fighting over the last X-Box 360 for their spoiled brat, never even registered. I miss the day's of cluelessness of what was going on around me, childhood innocence. Well alright, not innocence, but something like it. I miss the day's of respecting and enjoying the world for what it is, and I guess by writing this I'm reminding myself that those day's may be enjoyed again, but I've got to put forth the effort.
With that I'll conclude, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
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