i_bleed_life

The mediocrity that is me
2002-12-24 19:38:42 (UTC)

Merry Fucking Christmas

This insomnia is going to kill me sooner or later. I lay
there in my bed for hours desperately trying to fall
asleep. It doesn't work. I try to crash in front of the
television. In front of the computer. While reading a
book. None of them work. So I scrounge the medicine
cabinets for sleeping pills, or nyquil,
anything that would cause my brain to shut
down for ten to twelve hours.

I came across a bottle of perscrption cough medicine. Was
it mine? Noooo. The label read "May cause
Dizziness." "Do not operate heavy machinery or drive
while taking this medicin." Bingo. The dosage? Double
that and then some.

Finally around five-thirty the room starts spinning and I
black out with this weird feeling of conclusion
surrounding me.

I wake up five hours later with my sister pounding at the
door and my head feeling as if it was run over by a
disgruntled soccer mom driving and SUV. So she wakes me
up. I feel like shit. Can she do me a favor? FUCK NO,
of course not!

I fucking hate sixteen year olds. Hate them. Does she
not realize that I would do it for her? Is she really so
fucking selfish and blind that she can't even do me a
simple favor for once in her life? Jesus Christ. Is it
really that hard for her to do something nice for me? I'm
not asking her to sell her soul, for crying out loud. I
feel like shit, and all I ask her to do is to get money
out of the bank for me. Fucking little bitch.

Oh, and let's hear it for the Christmas spirit, the angel
of consumerism. Nothing screams Christmas like spending
massive amounts of money for that perfect gift. You'll be
a fucking asshole the other 11 months of the year, but at
Christmas, you'll spend spend spend to show how much you
REALLY care.

And to top it all off with a little more Christmas joy, my
mother is making a point of not speaking to me. Why, you
ask? Because I'm not twelve any more, nor am I going to
sit there and take it when she talks to me as if I still
lived in her house and needed her to tell me what to do.
I refuse to get in our old screaming matches again. I
refuse to be treated like less of a person simply because
I may have made some wrong decisions in the past. I come
back to visit, to see my family and my friends, and I
don't need to be treated like a parasite once again. Fuck
you, I get along just fine down at Tucson without you.
I'm here to visit you all. I don't want or need to put up
with this crap. I'm sorry I'm not your perfect child, but
Jesus Christ on a cracker, don't you think it's time for
you to let go? Just let me live my own life.

Nothing sings of Christmas joy like spending the holiday
at the local mall-church. Hooray. Fucking shoot me in
the head with a shotgun. Not only are we all forced into
believe Christmas is equative to consumerism, but this
ideal is reflected in churches. Now, I'm not a religious
person by any definition of the word, but holy hell,
you're a fucking church. Don't go acting all high and
mighty and spewing your oh so pious Christian ideals to me
when you spend all your money on your fucking light show.
What the fuck do you do to help out your "fellow
Christians in need"?!?! Nothing, you fucking self-
centered hypocrites. You are the epitome of everything
that drives me insane in the world. You're a peversion of
religion. Your very existance reeks of corruption and
money and power. Fuck you, you are not a church. You're
a fucking corporation, you bastards.

And don't even get me started on all the shitty pop
christmas albums released every year. I swear to ______
(insert deity of choice here), if I have to listen to
Vanessa Carelton or NSYNC or who-fucking-ever do another
unbelievably horrible cover of classic Christmas songs, my
head is going to explode. We already have enough crap in
the world, there is no need for you to continue the junk
output by spending two weeks recording a subpar Christmas
album simply to make more money to feed your expensive
habbits. Be original for once. If you're going to make a
Christmas album, do us all a favor and at least put a
little effort into it. And for crying out loud, if I have
to hear another shitty verion of "Oh Holy Night" I'm going
to slit my throat.

There's more, there's oh so much more to bitch about. I
could go on about the soccer moms who treat store workers
like servents simply because they don't have the gift that
little johnny wants in stock. Or I could talk about the
life-sized glowing nativity scences. Or the extravagant
light displays set up in suburbia as each neighbor tries
to out-do the other. Or the "Christmas Cheer" that comes
from downing one too many brandy-laced glass of eggnog.
Or the hypocriscy of proclaiming goodwill to all men as we
continue to bomb the hell out of other countries, and
systematically ignore the problems of our own.

But it's pointless. Me bitching about all of this isn't
going to do anything. Christmas is just going to continue
on like it has every year.

I'm starting to understand why the suicide rate jumps
during the holidays. I've become such a pillar of
negativity.