Coded green.
Pic of the day: Merry Christmas everyone! Says Wanya, the alien shapeshifting babysitter from the anime Daa Daa Daa. Alone for ChristmasYes, that is a not so subtle reference to the saddest, most whiny Christmas song I have ever heard: (Why am I) always alone for Christmas by Jonas Groth. I'm not sure who the guy is, but he sure can sing, and the arrangement was professional and all. Probably one of Norway's failed stars (or one that shone brightly but briefly, while I looked another way). Anyway, I was lucky to download the MP3 back when it was freely available on Freetrax. Oh yeah. Those were the times. Free quality music abounded without lawbreaking. I have a folder full of that kind of stuff, most of it melodic trance admittedly. This one is nothing like that. A professionally performed pop track. And so angsty, sad and whiny that I cannot help but feel better myself when hearing it. Today, I kinda needed that. I felt kinda down myself, after days and days without my ADSL. It is as if I am cut off from the world. My connection to the world of men is tenuous even at its best, and more so as time passes. With this blow of fate, I felt quite out of it. It came so far that I wished I had brought home a Wheel of Time book to read. That's low. And then I came to think of this song. Eventually I dug the zip drive out from the equipment heap & cable spaghetti knot and started playing. Soon a smile spread across my face, as misery heaped upon misery for the poor songwriter.
You never heard me complain (At this point, pictures of doomed kittens flashed before my inner eyes.)
Oh why am I always alone for Christmas? Maybe she will, but almost certainly not for Christmas. I have graciously extended an invitation to go to Hell together if she comes over here sometime. That's the railroad station named Hell just outside Trondheim, admittedly. They even have a hotel there. But maybe she won't come. That's OK too, then I don't need to do anything at all. And I'm a master of that.
The same game every year: For some reason, exaggerated whining hardly ever fails to cheer me up, and by now I feel pretty cheerful indeed. There is nothing like people using the expression "cursed shame" about being alone for Christmas, to put my own life in perspective. ***I wasn't always alone for Christmas, you know. For so many years that I have lost track, I used to spend them with my best friend and her family. It was pretty much a tradition, to the point where they seemed to treat me as a member of the family. Admittedly an expensive tradition for me, but that is not why I broke with it last year. The girl I loved had grown up, and although I will probably always love her in a way, it was past time to get out of her life. And nice though her family is, they simply were not that close to me. She was the chain that bound me there, and that is not a fate I wish on her. I think it was just in time too. This year she has her own boyfriend, I hope (she sure had one this summer, and I hope it went OK). He is a surprisingly normal guy. But that also means that he would probably feel uncomfortable unless I had gotten out of her life before he came into it. Humans simply don't believe in that degree of pure love unless they see it, and not necessarily even then. (And if it is genetically based, I suppose it never becomes widespread either.) So from last year onward, I am always alone for Christmas. That's OK because I don't really celebrate Christmas. It is not a Christian holiday as such (not that I always do all the things the original Christians did, but it is kinda comforting to know that there is no religious reason to celebrate it). My tentative new best friend is someone I have never met except electronically, and to be honest I expect it to stay that way. Hopefully I will never risk making her boyfriend jealous. Or girlfriend – I have no idea what orientation she has, except that she writes fiction about boy love – but that's beside the point. The point is, I am always alone for Christmas. And I wish that you all could be as I am today, only without this lack of ADSL. |
Visit the Diary Farm for the older diaries I've put out to pasture.