i try to give more than thanks
the weekend.
we all know what i'm talking about: food and family and friends and fondue and feeble feeble flibbity floobopbam. the question is whether we are in the middle of teenage angst, the middle of twenty-something confusion, thirty-something desperation, fourty-something disillusionment, or fifty-something passivity. the question is how we treat a periodic celebration, vaugely identical year after year, after time drips by.
i walk down the street and hear it from perfect strangers, let alone friends. that i am so much older than the skin on my face. that those older and younger are in tune with me and that i seem to attract those of the fairer sex with those years which make me seem all the more palatable.
along with this presupposed veil of adulthood, i figured out that if i'm not older in spirit i at least know how to fake it. maybe not consciously, mind you, and maybe not with the flare of someone who seems adult because they actually are adults. but still, the commentary gets to me. but not now, these last months of a year. familial socializing, laughing and being that which i've spent so very long keeping bundled up behind psychological camoflage.
point is, people, that i like thanksgiving. i liked it before, and i liked it this year. i revel with christmas and divali and thanksgiving and halloween and birthdays and even valentine's. a chance to do something drastically stupid and over the top (hallmarks of myself of course) with the chance of applause, or at least just not being asked if i have a psychological problem or something.
presents and gifts. jokes and cooking and sweaters. mocking brothers and then punching out a guy that starts talking trash about them. blankets and coats and gloves and fireplaces.
mistletoe and games of chance, betting with food.
the weather outside is frightful,
but the fire is so delightful.
and since i've no place to go...
...that's right...
let it snow let it snow let it snow.
say a few thanks for me, folks. i'm sure there's plenty i haven't had time to say.
we all know what i'm talking about: food and family and friends and fondue and feeble feeble flibbity floobopbam. the question is whether we are in the middle of teenage angst, the middle of twenty-something confusion, thirty-something desperation, fourty-something disillusionment, or fifty-something passivity. the question is how we treat a periodic celebration, vaugely identical year after year, after time drips by.
i walk down the street and hear it from perfect strangers, let alone friends. that i am so much older than the skin on my face. that those older and younger are in tune with me and that i seem to attract those of the fairer sex with those years which make me seem all the more palatable.
along with this presupposed veil of adulthood, i figured out that if i'm not older in spirit i at least know how to fake it. maybe not consciously, mind you, and maybe not with the flare of someone who seems adult because they actually are adults. but still, the commentary gets to me. but not now, these last months of a year. familial socializing, laughing and being that which i've spent so very long keeping bundled up behind psychological camoflage.
point is, people, that i like thanksgiving. i liked it before, and i liked it this year. i revel with christmas and divali and thanksgiving and halloween and birthdays and even valentine's. a chance to do something drastically stupid and over the top (hallmarks of myself of course) with the chance of applause, or at least just not being asked if i have a psychological problem or something.
presents and gifts. jokes and cooking and sweaters. mocking brothers and then punching out a guy that starts talking trash about them. blankets and coats and gloves and fireplaces.
mistletoe and games of chance, betting with food.
the weather outside is frightful,
but the fire is so delightful.
and since i've no place to go...
...that's right...
let it snow let it snow let it snow.
say a few thanks for me, folks. i'm sure there's plenty i haven't had time to say.
posted by Mister Vikas at 11:01 AM
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