Christmas Gets Bigger
Every year Christmas seems to grow bigger
And I thought it was meant to be the other way round?
As I grow taller and carefully mould my personality into it’s allotted human space
Surely the Christmas trees should grow smaller with my memory, the passage of time and perspective working its wonders
as I move on
to care about different things.
But every year I swear Christmas gets bigger
And I just get… smaller. Sadder.
Because every shop window has multiplied by size and round every street corner there is
Fake snow
Fake candles
Empty boxes wrapped up by banks sitting under…
Fake trees decorated meticulously by starving, sleepless interns
Mulled wine air freshener!
And children queue for hours to get that ONE special photo
with the CocaCola van
Christmas get bigger.
And I just get smaller. Sadder.
Our bank accounts get smaller
And Christmas gets bigger.
Our families get smaller
And Christmas gets bigger
Our hospitals disappear
But Christmas gets BIGGER
People swarm the high streets,
brows furrowed,
withered faces,
panic ringing ears,
stand still in the middle of BODYsea
Banshee screaming and no one would notice,
beat you down with handbags
beat the rush,
shop till you drop,
24/7 and it never stops
IT IS REALLY IMPORTANT THAT WE GET EVERYTHING RIGHT FOR THE ONE DAY OF THE YEAR WE ARE ALLOWED TO ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER…
…and Christmas gets bigger.
Christmas towering over us with its serpent holly bush tongue.
Christmas mouthspitting burn red hot stinging goose fat out at us when we try to escape.
Christmas clambering over piles of frozen homeless bodies to get a better look at the m&s light display.
Christmas selling us saccharine candyheart bumper stickers, for the price of real empathy.
Christmas takes its casualties, one by one.
Every money stress.
Every heart attack.
Every old man with meals on wheels, paying people to come visit him.
Every suicide.
Every “Why am I the only one without SOMEONE this time of year?”
Every thousands of milllions of pennies
Drain poured into a sewage system of disaster capitalism.
Christmas takes it’s casualties one by one, and feeds on them.
Christmas grows bigger every year…. and every year I need to stop growing smaller and sadder.
We owe to to ourselves to make the space to remember
Love doesn’t need to be a ritual
So this year I’ll make my heart bigger than Christmas.
This year my friends will be bigger than Christmas.
This year I’ll grow my soul old and sing
resounding with life pulsing energy rings
We all deserve to be bigger than Christmas.
This year my family…
..though it is only two…
…will be bigger…
…than Christmas.
How about you?
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