It rained on Christmas. It would be a perfect metaphor, the perfect end to the perfect year if it wasn't a cold wet reality. The inches of rain threatening to bring hundreds of pounds of mud into my back door make it less metaphor and more reality.
Reality isn't really somthing I'm instrested in though. This was the year that Christmas forgot. I can't say it's not my fault. I could have done more. The plastic tree was sitting in the garage and just like everybody else I ignored it. I didn't wrap my presents in pretty paper or the house in lights. I didn't bake cookies or make carmel corn. I can't pass the blame. Not all of it anyway.
It doesn't change the facts though. Doesn't change that out of five family members seven gifts generated by two members (one of which was a coop) were exchanged. Doesn't change the fact.
I know today is supposed to be cherry but I'm simply not feeling it. Instead I'm feeling a renewd vigor to make 2009 mine. Still I can't change facts and the fact is that it rained on Christmas. A year that saw one girlfriend imprisoned (probably for any important parts of her life) and the other married (likely divorced before 12 months have passed *maybe wishful thinking*) my business hit hard times.
I say it again and I intend to confirm it in less than a week. I'm still here. The world, God, Karma whatever they took their fucking best shot and I still draw breath and I'm sick and fucking tired of being a victim. Starting 01/01/07 there will three kinds of people in the world. Those who help me. Those who get out of my way. those I kill without mercy. Make your peace with me or your gods and do it right now cus time is officially up 12/31/08.
