The poison of doubt enslaves our minds

The smell of cigarette smoke makes me sick.  Six months ago I didn’t know that, because 6 months ago I had never gone more than a week without it.  But it gives me a headache and makes it hard to breathe.

It’s going to be my first Christmas away from home.  The Christmas tree makes me want to cry a little, because it’s just so lonely.  Everything is lonely.  The wind scattering crystals of snow as the horizon begins to lighten almost to the south…dead silence, broken only by the steady crunch of snow underfoot.  "Abandon all hope, Ye who enter here."  Or is it my imagination? 

The desperation of fall has passed, replaced now with the lonely melancholia of winter.  Earth and sky take on the same sick grey hue, dirty snow and car exhaust.  Christmas wreaths outlined against the fading light, glimmers of Christmas cheer struggling against the undertow.  And here we are, the most unhappy.  MIP, RIP, DUI, DIE.  Winter never ends, the hearts never thaw.

Church bells ring Silent Night, gingerbread on the wind, drunks stumble home to abuse their kids.  Hate is strong and mocks the song.  Grandmas fight in Wal-Mart over the best new toy, hoping that maybe their grandkids will love them again.  Parents fight in Wal-Mart over the best new toy so maybe their kids will shut the fuck up.  And kids fight in Wal-Mart because they want more toys and games and stuff because God knows they have to make up for what’s missing.

Somewhere, people gather around a fire, chestnuts roasting, apple cider and warm winter nights.  Maybe that’s you.  But somewhere else, someone just got an eviction notice in their cold, rundown, piece of shit house. 

Sometimes, winter never ends.