Holiday Blues by Jael
Ah, Holiday Blues. You, as always, are right on time, my friend. You, sir, are as consistent as you are swift. You waste no time and set out to do your task. With barely a kiss hello, you announce your arrival and thrust your stake in the ground that is my heart and claim it as your own. “MANIFEST DESTINY!” You cry. It is your fate, your virtue, your inexorable mission to rid this land of savage dreams, brute hopes and barbaric aspirations. As you press your stake deeper and deeper into my heart, you gently stroke my cheek and whisper, “Stupid child, who told you to dream? Come and lay lifeless in my bosom. You were never made for living. It is for those who are stronger, smarter, and more beautiful than you. Why must I return every year and remind you?”
Ah, Holiday Blues, but there in your snare lies your undoing. For I know you have never left. All year you wore the veil of discouragement, the mask of rationalization, the cloak of apathy. You are a liar and I will no longer listen to you. So, go ahead. Thrust you flag in any region of my heart you wish, but it will never belong to you. For I have discovered that my heart can expand at an exponential pace. And it has already expanded into a vast empire whose citizens have chosen my dreams as King. And he is benevolent, but he is MIGHTY and has sent an army of ventricles to crush you!
Ah, but in this one thing you never lied. I was never made for living. You are right. Living was made for me.
