Dear December,
The day after Christmas may be one of the saddest days of the year--waking up at eleven and seeing cheap gifts on the floor and surrendering to the inevitable realization that a modern, well-loved holiday is partially built on materialism. It's not a good feeling and for once I'll let my sarcasm take a break. I'm not sad. It's just that it's much easier, for some reason, to make sad words sound beautiful than it is happy ones. Sad sounds real, stark, gray. Happy, in the words of most people, sounds like a foolish fantasy wrapped in artificial sunlight. Few can write it to sound like a reality. That is why I write sad even when I'm not, because if I tried to portray what I really felt it'd be a failed attempt at a cutout of contentedness.
I'm not sad. My words just sound prettier when they are written in the tone of a melancholy hero, and sometimes that's what makes me happy.
YOU ARE READING
dear december
Non-FictionContinued from last month's Dear November letters. A little less angsty, a little more poetic. Originally done on Polyvore, by @writingtips' and @smileylina 's suggestion, who got the idea from Youtuber Carrie Fletcher's series 'Letters to Autumn'.
