Friday, December 4, 2009

yeah right, december

i see what you're doing. what you're trying to do.

and i suppose you think you're real clever, don't you, you frigid saucebox. well.

when i said i wasn't going to complain this winter i meant it, every word. there are plenty of other mouths and minds and mediums that will erupt with bitterness, contempt, and despair and over what?! a lack of degrees?

of the many things so many lack, degrees ought to be the least of our worries, eh? we have coats and scarves and mitts and each other. we've the nearest watering hole to run to when the living room caves in. we've heating systems and favorite blankets and some of us even have extremely silly slippers and inside hats. we are armed, every one, to deal with this and we will like we do every year but this year i see no point in pointing out the struggle. no. i plan to revel instead in the pleasures of neighbordays spent curled up among friends. the pleasures of a big spoon wrapped round a lil 'un. those of a dog doing his damndest to bury his head in my arm, those of a favorite blanket unraveling to its last and hot toddies and soups and the occasional cup of mexican hot chocolate. these will not signify respite but only another shape of joy.

december, you're only december, i know. and there are months and miles ahead but even still. even still. if it's me versus you, me versus january, me versus april that venomous bitch, i will always win. you, december - you come and you go. january comes and it goes. april comes and it fucking goes. and there i am, victorious and crowned in summer once more, barrel of skippy at one side, and the sun on the other.

so bring it, bitch. i came to play.

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