I just can’t afford to care that it is Xmas today.
Like I was saying yesterday, this is the year I have to cut all ties to Xmas that would bring me down. It’s just not worth it to keep caring when that can only lead to me feeling dangerously terrible this year.
I could lie to myself and fill myself with false cheer by telling myself that next year will be different. Next year I will truly celebrate. Next year I will save up to get myself a room in a nice hotel where I can do Xmas in pleasant surroundings and even pretend like I am a grownup for a while, at least till checkout time.
Or I’ll find some homeless shelter or soup kitchen or food bank and spend the day handing food to the people in society who are even poorer than I am.
Or I’ll volunteer at a suicide hotline, or be Santa for orphans, or wander the world singing songs and solving crimes.
Why, just think of all the wonderful things I could do!
But I know damned well I won’t do any of them. In fact I am betting that exactly 365 days from now, I will be doing the exact same thing – typing my feelings into this blog and whining about how I don’t have the wherewithal to celebrate by myself.
The only way I could prevent that is if I bought all my Xmas stuff for 2025 now, while I am still at least a bit inspired. but set it to not be delivered until Xmas Eve of next year.
But I know I ain’t gonna do that either. The truth is that I just don’t have what it takes to take care of myself. I still haven’t overcome that deep and terrible passivity that lurks at the core of my being that makes it so hard for me to act at all except to just keep going through the motions of my stupid so-called life.
I just keep going along that same old downward path. The gradient is such that it doesn’t feel like I am going down, but when I look around it’s quite clear that I am silently trudging my way down to Hell and a truly pathetic death.
And it’s not like that’s my desired destination. My desired destination involves having a job, a boyfriend, a house, and friends with various levels of benefits.
If I came into a ton of money and met my dream man the same night, he would have to understand that I have a LOT of wild oats to sow before I can consider monogamy.
Luckily, we gay men are more likely to be tolerant of that kind of thing.
But I can’t seem to get off this path no matter how undesirable the destination. It’s like I am locked in by some self-hypnotic magnetic field, like I’m on a rail and this is all just a very depressing Disneyland ride.
And I have tried to figure out what this magnetic force is. What is it that makes it so hard for me to make any kind of change to my life, no matter how desirable?
I feel like my energies are focused in the wrong direction in time. Like at some point, all my potential got sunk into being able to go forward the exact same way indefinitely and that system violently resists any attempt I might make to take those resources and put them into making that future actually better.
Like if I change anything at all, everything will fall apart.
Clearly not true but it’s still how I feel.
So here we are.
More after the break.
¿Tienes hambre, amigo?
Decided that my traditional Xmas dinner would be a traditional Xmas burrito bowl from my new best friend, Quesada Tacos and Burritos.
Finally, I can get Mexican food delivered! I’ve never done the “burrito bowl” thing before, but it’s not very complicated.
Take the contents of a burrito and instead of putting it in a tortilla, stick it in a bowl. Ay caramba, you got yourself a burrito bowl.
It’s a very West Coast kind of thing. Has less carbs this way.
So I got layers of lettuce, tomatoes, refried beans, taco beef (!), and brown rice. all in a bowl for your dining pleasure.
And it’s delicious. Om nom nom!
My delivery dude didn’t want to call me on the phone built into the building. I think he actually expected me to come down to his fucking car because he whined that there wasn’t any parking.
Well too bad. I’m disabled and I can’t come down to get it, you have to get it up here.
Besides, what are the odds that someone would ticket a car that you left running with the door open while you took a quick trip up the elevator?
Not my problem, anyhow. Gimmie my food!
My mother called earlier. I always love hearing from her, of course. It’s good to hear her voice and be reminded that, despite all my misgivings about my past and the bad family dynamic I grew up in, she remains a very sweet and wonderful woman.
And I’m not the only one who thinks so. She told me that goes for a Chinese food meal once a week, just her and a book, and quite often when she goes to pay her bill, she finds some kind stranger(s) have paid it for her!
Can you imagine? People see this sweet little old lady with her book and decide to make her their act of kindness.
I told my mother it was because she’s very lovable, which she is.
I didn’t ask if anyone could maybe think she’s homeless, which they might, with her tendency to have a purse and an overstuffed cloth bag with her at all times.
She’s not unhoused, folks. She’s just my dear sweet lovable eccentric mother.
Merry Christmas, my most beautiful and wonderful readers. I hope you had a good one.
And I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.