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Ho Ho Ho, You Dirty Little Slut

2004-12-22_xx_2:15 p.m.


I�ve got piles of brightly colored cards piling up higher and higher from people that don�t even know me, but can�t break away from traditions imprinted in their psyches long enough to stop the addiction they deny. The garish cavalcade of colors are a sharp contrast to the coal black apathy of my barely beating heart.

There are mounds shiny tinted foil wrapped chocolates spilling off my desk. Candy canes in rainbow colors that boast flavors that may or may not be mint and don�t give up this secret until it is far too late. Cookies and cakes and baked goods of all sizes and shapes are thrust upon me on paper plates with plastic forks. Believe it or not I even have a fruit cake wrapped in colored cellophane, adorned with a matching green bow.

Gold and silver tinsel attempts to strangle me around every corner. I careen into fake pine needles, trees and wreathes threaten to flail the clothing from my very body as I am blinded by masses of blinking lights; even the employee bathrooms are decorated.

Santa hats, Santa socks and Satan shirts greet me day in and day out, worn by the masses that think Santa buttons which play Santa songs are an outrageous holiday fashion statement. The Satan costumes, with scraggily fake beards and pillow stuffed stomachs trudging around in black rubber galoshes all of which seem ridiculously out of place in the warm sunshine of my desert retreat; how on earth does the presence of so many Santa�s in so many places not raise a red flag and statements of doubt from the mesmerized youth of amerika?

And I swear by the three wisemen if I hear one more bell jingle, I�m going to�I�m going to�



stop. BREATH. Focus.

Silence, serenity and solace are just on the horizon of two more sunrises. Please Oh bastard son of a god I don�t believe in, grant me the strength to not smite the next soul who wishes me a Merry celebration of your birthing day.

I must remember that just like those that place blind and unquestioning faith in superstition and religion, if I destroy every little thing that brings hope to the downtrodden and ignorant the ensuing chaos would be for worse of a situation than the one I am currently in.

Tis better to wreak havoc among the masses then to destroy the masses all together.

Seasonal Greetings From the Desert, my sheep

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