It is not the first christmas I spent alone.
It is the first I spent alone by choice.
It is the first I spent alone without my nuclear family.

If christmas is about family, then it does follow I spend it on my own, because after all I am without family.

I started hating christmas more when my father died. Not only did he die on my older brother's birthday, but he died when the house was already decorated for the holidays.

I cannot get that image out of my mind now, how incongruous it looked, a coffin right beside the christmas tree. It was like an oversized present, only it was a morbid, macabre box containing the remains of a loved one.

I am the ghost of christmas past: "These are the shadows of things that have been. That they are what they are, do not blame me!"

Don't blame me, either, why I hate christmas.

Life is not a bitch.
Life is a dick.
It gets hard for no reason at all.

sht

Earlier today I was picking up dog shit. As I was cleaning, it distracted me from the distress I have been feeling. Emotions suck. It occurred to me maybe I should just clean up after dogs and people. After all, people treat me like shit anyway. I feel like shit anyway.