Whilst putting up my christmas tree this year, bauble by bauble I was tempted to smash the "fucker" down. Not only do I believe that my heart and soul is not yet fully committed to the traditions of Christmas, I am also not keen on the whole giving and recieving part.The only thing I am begining to enjoy about Christmas is the ambient noise and the synthetic value of tinsel as I pass it through my fingers. My grandad agreed to take this picture with the Christmas tree as I think it is symbolic. Not only is he saluting to the traditions of Christmas, he is also conforming in something he doesn't truly believe in.
My heart doesn't seem to be in it anymore, I have tried listening to endless, mind numbing Christmas songs that fill every cell of me with hate (Which should, as a fact fill me with joy) and pushing myself into the mood of it, but I get this just can't be forced and every inch of me want's to destroy and burn the Christmas cards I recieve.
All together riveting, in a some what melancholic expression of grim angst against the corporate destruction of an innocent tradition.
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