Gypsy says Merry Christmas


Christmas, by 6Artificial6

Written a few days ago…


It’s that time of year again. Christmas. I can hardly believe it – it can’t possibly have been a year since the last, when I was fighting to stave off the blues and appreciate the reds, greens and golds of the season instead.

I always feel like I’m in a bit of a time-warp around this time of year but this time the feeling’s increased a hundred fold. In a way I feel the year has sped by, yanking me with it, leaving my head a-whirl as I try and look back to see where it’s all gone. But it also feels like last year’s crazy turmoil happened a hundred years ago – another life; another me. Continue reading Gypsy says Merry Christmas

Santa

Santa stares at himself in the mirror, gathering his resolve. He feels strange, dressed as he is all in black. But these are strange times. His customary red suit hangs dry cleaned, ironed and smart in his cupboard which he has left open – a habit his wife hates. Santa shoots a slightly rueful look at the suit, turns back to his reflection and wonders for the umpteenth whether this is a good idea after all.

Then his gaze drops to a lengthy crumpled list on his dresser and, also for the umpteenth time, he realizes that it is. He picks up the list and sits down for a moment to scan it, his free hand automatically dipping into the packet of chocolate chip cookies he always keeps nearby. The rustling of the packet makes his wife stir in her sleep but he keeps munching, albeit a little guiltily. He knows he needs to keep the weight down, especially considering the taxing nature of tonight’s assignment, but he also needs energy. Sugar’s good for energy, he’s heard.

First on the list: Sri Lanka. Santa sits back in his chair, his brows drawing together as he tries to remember where that is. The reindeer always seem to know where they are going but he likes to have some idea as well. After so many years of doing what he does, he guesses he should know the world like the back of his hand. As loathe as he is to admit it, though, his memory isn’t as good as it used to be. He rummages around his person and finally unearths an ancient dog-eared world map from the depths of one of his pockets. Smoothing it out on his lap, he hunches over it, groping absently for his glasses while he squints in the dim light, trying to find the place. Continue reading Santa

25/12/2008

Christmas is here. I just wish I wasn’t finding it so hard to concentrate. So many things are crowding my mind when all I want is to forget them all and concentrate on my family, who I have been pushing aside for too long because of my own problems. Lately I have been feeling myself undeserving of their constant concern for me, their unexpected cuddles and other little gestures of love that have been forthcoming no matter my mood. Which has usually been black or at least on the dark side.

 

For no other reason that Christmas being imminent, I’ve tried to lighten up a little over the past few weeks. Yesterday and today have been spent well in that respect at least. Continue reading 25/12/2008

Christmas flies

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Christmas flies. Delightful and intensely annoying at the same time. They buzz in around October and remind you that the year is drawing to an end and by the time the end of the year actually rolls around you’re thoroughly sick of them. If they weren’t around, though, you’d notice immediately. They seem to be getting less and less now, which is sad. But maybe that means something too. That we’re growing up, that we don’t anticipate them anymore, that there’s no need for them anymore. I miss them.

 

My feelings about Christmas tend to fluctuate these days. Sometimes I surreptitiously switch on some carols on my iPod and sing along in my head while at office, barely able to contain my childish excitement that Christmas time is finally here. At other times, I couldn’t feel less Christmassy, less happy or festive. Which frustrates me, because I love Christmas – not for the presents and the sales and the over-commercialization of the season – but for the simple thrill of doing something so quaintly traditional, something I’ve been doing since I was a little kid.

 

It’s sad how things have changed through the years though. Not sad so much as bittersweet, I guess. I remember how we used to do things when I was small. Nothing out of the ordinary really, nothing large scale, but it was what I was brought up doing, so it was just…special. Continue reading Christmas flies

Carols, friends and moving on

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I’m having fun again. Haha. Finally! The thrill of it made me want to giggle madly as I walked to work today, listening to Christmas carols for the first time for the year. I avoid local radio in any case, but I make an even more pronounced effort during November and December because hearing those godawful popped-up carols-on-acid never fail to kill my Christmas buzz. So it’s always special when I put on my standard Christmas CD – Carols sung by the Choir of King’s College Cambridge – and drink in those first strains of divine choral music. ‘Ding Dong Merrily On High’ and it made me literally shudder with delight, happy to be alive and in this moment. That feeling was accompanied by another – a sensation of being slightly shocked to be feeling this way and after such a long time.

 

As I walked on towards work, trying vainly to stifle my grin, I thought about the people I’ve been meeting lately. Happy people, full of energy, refusing to be dragged down by all the stuff they’ve got going on. I love people like that. They inspire me, and make me even more eager to get rid of my blues. And though it’s only been a few days, I feel like I’ve made more progress than I’ve made in the past few months. These people may or may not know who they are but for what it’s worth, I just wanted to send a big THANKS out into the void. Continue reading Carols, friends and moving on