PERVERSE RECOLLECTIONS OF DARK COMEDIES AND WHITE LIES

Christmas Lights

bright lights.
those are mostly what i would remember whenever i try to get a glimpse of the yuletide seasons back when i was a kid.
there was a deep sense of wonderment and magic wherever i looked. my parents would take me out and we would buy christmas decorations for the house and every morning, i would wake up to the sound of my father cooking while he plays his old christmas records as my mom decorates the house with various ornaments to celebrate the season.
there was a cold chill in the air that made me shiver as i drank a tall glass of milk my father used to make me. and i would go to school and embrace the frigid december wind across my face happily. and in the evening, our house would frequently get visits from carolers, loud and merry.

christmas lights were sorcery to me. i never knew how these things worked. my mom would just put them on the house and in the afternoon whenever i would go home from school, they were already there. gleaming colors of red and green. just like magic. and i would enter the house, take off my shoes and watch tv, eat and sleep.

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i'd give up anything for that sense of wonderment to come back again.

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now the only thing left from my childhood is the cold december chill. i feel it caressing my face as i breathe smoke out of my lungs.

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it was not a happy kind of cold anymore.

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it was sad.

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damp.

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it was dead cold.

growing up as a kid, i slowly realized how fake the christmas season is. giving gifts is actually an obligation rather than an oportunity. relatives coming over to visit, would only come to ask for money from my parents and leave me with barely anything. they would come and they would eat everything on our tables like pigs and leave. the merry sound the christmas carolers used to bring would now ring in my ears like a jack hammer on a construction site. everything that used to be magical about christmas, i now find irritating.

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but whenever i see a street kid with snot smothered in his nose coming to me to sing a christmas carol i would look into that kids eyes and somehow, i would see the same glimmer in our christmas lights back when i was a kid in them as he tries to sing with his raspy tired voice.
id give him whatever i have in my pockets. be it candies or money. and in a way, i feel a part of what used to be a "christmas spirit" come back to me. and it would make me smile as i light another cigarette, waiting for my ride home.

i guess this is why some adults love giving gifts and presents to people during the yuletide season.
i guess its just a desperate attempt to bring back the sense of magic and wonderment they once felt back when they were kids.

me?

im just desperate for another glass of rhum.