Christmas.
By afparungao - Thursday, December 24, 2009
I'm not a fan of Christmas, really.
I'm more of a New Year's girl, than Christmas. Especially this year.
I've never felt this unenthusiastic about anything in my life. This year, we did not have Christmas tree. This year, we did not have any Christmas lights. This year, we do not have anything for Noche Buena. Not because we did not want to or we don't have money to have them. Believe me, we have enough hams, Keso de Bola, and the works to have a very decent celebration. But somehow, amidst the fireworks and the merry making, except of course my mother who kept on wrapping gifts, nobody really paid attention to celebrating.
My dad, inches away from me, already in his jammies, watching late night news. My mother, still wrapping gifts, my brother, just came home from a party hell knows where, even celebrating first with his friends rather than with us. I'm "celebrating" online, and in awhile I'm going to hit the sack and just wait (and sleep) til the morning comes. I was so close to having a fucked up Christmas too. As if it wasn't fucked up enough.
This is, by far, the saddest Christmas, no the saddest year ever assembled.
No amount of money can even make me happy. Not even the shiniest gifts or the new clothes. Not even watching sappy Christmas movies. Not even the Leche flan tarts. Oh wait, it's no longer there.
Mixing the misery with headache, it's a good excuse to sleep early.
I'm more of a New Year's girl, than Christmas. Especially this year.
I've never felt this unenthusiastic about anything in my life. This year, we did not have Christmas tree. This year, we did not have any Christmas lights. This year, we do not have anything for Noche Buena. Not because we did not want to or we don't have money to have them. Believe me, we have enough hams, Keso de Bola, and the works to have a very decent celebration. But somehow, amidst the fireworks and the merry making, except of course my mother who kept on wrapping gifts, nobody really paid attention to celebrating.
My dad, inches away from me, already in his jammies, watching late night news. My mother, still wrapping gifts, my brother, just came home from a party hell knows where, even celebrating first with his friends rather than with us. I'm "celebrating" online, and in awhile I'm going to hit the sack and just wait (and sleep) til the morning comes. I was so close to having a fucked up Christmas too. As if it wasn't fucked up enough.
This is, by far, the saddest Christmas, no the saddest year ever assembled.
No amount of money can even make me happy. Not even the shiniest gifts or the new clothes. Not even watching sappy Christmas movies. Not even the Leche flan tarts. Oh wait, it's no longer there.
Mixing the misery with headache, it's a good excuse to sleep early.
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