Get better, Christmas!
(Traducido por Rosemary Barker)
Yesterday I read an expression somewhere, I can´t remember where: “my soul is ailing” and I said, “Oh dear!”, that´s how I feel. At the moment my soul is wrapped in a woollen shawl by the warmth of the fire.
While rubbing my hands to keep them warm I am thinking, “ What can be done about this
Christmas which is lying in wait?”
Avoid it, sit and wait or run away so it won´t catch me up? I can´t run away, my body is empathetic with my ailing soul and is in a similar state of health. Letting itself go towards the void, lazy and ash-coloured.
And the worst thing is that this thought explodes into my head almost before switching on my
computer on a grey, wet Wednesday, even before finishing my second cup of coffee. And the very worst of it all is that this thought has come to me even earlier than years before.
The festivities will be no better or no worse than years before. They will be sad as always, each year for different reasons and they will be sometimes happy in certain moments,again for different reasons. Now, thinking about it, it has started to snow in my heart and the snowflakes are sticking to the sides. If that isn´t enough I see a photo of myself on my phone, a memory of 7 years ago according to Google. Longer hair, body half its present size and for sure with the same small eyes that seemed to see more. Back then the lights must have gone on even more beforehand, but maybe I didn´t even care.
I have just remembered that today I have the fifth or sixth pre-Christmas lunch, I don´t know if with the same group of friends or another, but always in a different venue. It´s very likely that since all this began at the end of October, my trouser size has grown several centimeters as if it were getting older. For at least a month I have been arriving home, some days yes,some days no, with a burning sensation in my stomach, head and throat.
In my stomach because nowadays wine, beer and whiskey don´t mix well, they have become tired of partying together. In my head, not only because the mix now only causes damage, but also because of the loud music and raised voices trying to out-do each other. Besides, I don´t lose my head like before, on the contrary it stays firmly placed on my shoulders as if it has nothing to do with what is going on around it. People shout, laugh and raise their glasses and my mind travels to places it shouldn´t go to and the rivers of alcohol,the false pretenses and the hollow laughter seem like a costume more appropriate for Halloween than the celebration of the birth of someone you have never met and who has never bought a round to celebrate their birthday anyway. My throat burns from keeping quiet and not shouting and from the tinsel which hangs on the walls which is strangling me.
Generally speaking I have never liked Christmas since I came into existance and this year even less.
I am like the left-over mince pies that have survived forgotten for 365 days at the back of the pantry; a little more fusty if possible with each day.
While rubbing my hands to keep them warm I am thinking, “ What can be done about this
Christmas which is lying in wait?”
Avoid it, sit and wait or run away so it won´t catch me up? I can´t run away, my body is empathetic with my ailing soul and is in a similar state of health. Letting itself go towards the void, lazy and ash-coloured.
And the worst thing is that this thought explodes into my head almost before switching on my
computer on a grey, wet Wednesday, even before finishing my second cup of coffee. And the very worst of it all is that this thought has come to me even earlier than years before.
The festivities will be no better or no worse than years before. They will be sad as always, each year for different reasons and they will be sometimes happy in certain moments,again for different reasons. Now, thinking about it, it has started to snow in my heart and the snowflakes are sticking to the sides. If that isn´t enough I see a photo of myself on my phone, a memory of 7 years ago according to Google. Longer hair, body half its present size and for sure with the same small eyes that seemed to see more. Back then the lights must have gone on even more beforehand, but maybe I didn´t even care.
I have just remembered that today I have the fifth or sixth pre-Christmas lunch, I don´t know if with the same group of friends or another, but always in a different venue. It´s very likely that since all this began at the end of October, my trouser size has grown several centimeters as if it were getting older. For at least a month I have been arriving home, some days yes,some days no, with a burning sensation in my stomach, head and throat.
In my stomach because nowadays wine, beer and whiskey don´t mix well, they have become tired of partying together. In my head, not only because the mix now only causes damage, but also because of the loud music and raised voices trying to out-do each other. Besides, I don´t lose my head like before, on the contrary it stays firmly placed on my shoulders as if it has nothing to do with what is going on around it. People shout, laugh and raise their glasses and my mind travels to places it shouldn´t go to and the rivers of alcohol,the false pretenses and the hollow laughter seem like a costume more appropriate for Halloween than the celebration of the birth of someone you have never met and who has never bought a round to celebrate their birthday anyway. My throat burns from keeping quiet and not shouting and from the tinsel which hangs on the walls which is strangling me.
Generally speaking I have never liked Christmas since I came into existance and this year even less.
I am like the left-over mince pies that have survived forgotten for 365 days at the back of the pantry; a little more fusty if possible with each day.
My insides contract under the tablecloth of the brazier- warmed table while my mouth pouts. I am not aware of this as I cannot see myself, but my companion can and she throws the pencil jar at me.
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