Christmas time, it’s Christmas time,
How flawed is your message?
Christmas time, it’s Christmas time,
How flawed is your message?
You’re never thought of,the year round,
Until it’s too late, we are bound,
To buy gifts at Christmas time,
No meaning left to signify.
Christmas time, it’s Christmas time,
How flawed is your message?
Christmas time, it’s Christmas time,
How flawed is your message?
We used to think of happiness,
But we’re not children (God help us.)
Commercialism is at fault,
Shops don’t care, they want things sold.
Christmas time, it’s Christmas time,
How flawed is your message?
Christmas time, it’s Christmas time,
How flawed is your message?
Sorry if anyone finds this offensive. I just wrote this because I think Christmas lacks any meaning nowadays, especially to me, now knowing about its origin yet not believing in a specific deity, and still mindlessly celebrating. As a child I used to get ridiculously excited and stayed up to catch Santa delivering presents- my family was never very religious, but they did get into the festive spirit. Once, I heard footsteps coming down the corridor, when I lived at my fathers house, and I closed my eyes excitedly and pretended to sleep as ‘Santa’ put presents in the stocking by my bed. He sat on my bed. I was really excited, and really wanted to see, but there was something stopping me. There was this feeling that it would end the anticipation I always felt.
After he left my room, and I was sure he was out of the corridor, I raced into my brothers room to wake him up and tell him that the presents had come, and that Santa might still be here. We got really worked up, and tiptoed down the corridor to see if we could see Santa. We could see the light in the living room turned on, and we both assumed that it was him. But neither of us were brave enough to peek our head around the corner and look. I could hear my brothers heart beating, and I’m sure it was the same vice versa. It was pretty much the most exciting night of my entire childhood. It was also the first, and only all nighter I’ve ever pulled.
I was at the age that people were just starting to disbelieve. I went back to school when the holidays stopped, and when people asked each other what Santa gave them for Christmas, there were kids who were telling them that Santa didn’t exist. I gave them my recap of Christmas Eve, and how I knew that Santa actually sat on my bed. In my heart and in my head, I was firmly convinced. I even told them “He was heavier than my mum and my dad put together!” (Years later, I found out that it was my mum who did all of the Christmas-related delivery, and I still feel guilty for that comment.) And I convinced everyone else too.
That’s what I think Christmas, and Santa is about. The ability to be convinced purely by faith. This is for Christians and non religious people alike. I mean, isn’t that what Christianity is? Faith. There is a certain magic held in the upkeeping of faith, and this is why I respect Christianity, and almost every other religion I know of. I think children epitomise the atmosphere of Christmas. I really miss that magical element; that night is the last I’d experienced of it. I think by the next Christmas my faith in Santa had been taken away.Yet the magic of Christmas still remained, for a while, at least. Because I was a child, and the simple act of being a child, of bliss, and ignorance, brings some alternate meaning to almost everything.
Now, there’s nothing. Gifts bought simply because of an event that no longer holds any meaning to me. It actually brings up a feeling of guilt inside of me.
Nevertheless, even if I no longer enjoy the feeling of Christmas, I hope at least some of you retain some magic.I wish all of you a merry Christmas, or simply a happy holidays.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
I... I think today was important.
I try very hard not to cry in front of people. My mother and my old counselor have been the only people who have seen me properly cry in the past few years.
Until today.
I think I'm beginning to trust you.
Don't scoff at the word 'beginning'.
It takes a lot.
And don't be worried either. I'm glad I cried. It had been too long.
I need some way of relieving myself from the stock of feelings I feel I have to build up.
You already know I barely tell anyone anything.
Having had depression, and still suffering from frequent patches where I sink ridiculously low, I think it's understandable that I need to cry, and I think it also gives a reason for the lack of knowledge people have about me directly. I'm not about to burden someone with my feelings when they occur often.
Crying is probably a healthy thing. It doesn't mean I'll cry every time I see you, I just think that today was a step in the right direction. Don't worry, please.
I love you.
I try very hard not to cry in front of people. My mother and my old counselor have been the only people who have seen me properly cry in the past few years.
Until today.
I think I'm beginning to trust you.
Don't scoff at the word 'beginning'.
It takes a lot.
And don't be worried either. I'm glad I cried. It had been too long.
I need some way of relieving myself from the stock of feelings I feel I have to build up.
You already know I barely tell anyone anything.
Having had depression, and still suffering from frequent patches where I sink ridiculously low, I think it's understandable that I need to cry, and I think it also gives a reason for the lack of knowledge people have about me directly. I'm not about to burden someone with my feelings when they occur often.
Crying is probably a healthy thing. It doesn't mean I'll cry every time I see you, I just think that today was a step in the right direction. Don't worry, please.
I love you.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
I like having friends.
I don't have very many. Less, this year.
I really would appreciate being able to sit and talk with someone again.
There was one point in my life where I was surrounded by people like that.
I've become much less open and much more loud.
I'm really not sure how that's happened.
I've found someone I love, who I can't imagine life without.
I've discovered that I don't want to spend time with all of the friends who are available to me, yet I want to spend time with people who are off limits because of either emotional or physical distance.
I think that's why I enjoyed the picnic. It felt like I had friends.
I doubt many people would really care all too much if I didn't speak to them for the rest of their lives.
I dislike growing older.
I turn 16 on Saturday.
This is not good news.
Time; back off.
I don't have very many. Less, this year.
I really would appreciate being able to sit and talk with someone again.
There was one point in my life where I was surrounded by people like that.
I've become much less open and much more loud.
I'm really not sure how that's happened.
I've found someone I love, who I can't imagine life without.
I've discovered that I don't want to spend time with all of the friends who are available to me, yet I want to spend time with people who are off limits because of either emotional or physical distance.
I think that's why I enjoyed the picnic. It felt like I had friends.
I doubt many people would really care all too much if I didn't speak to them for the rest of their lives.
I dislike growing older.
I turn 16 on Saturday.
This is not good news.
Time; back off.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
What on earth..?
Last night I was feeling pretty terrible. I wake up this morning, finish reading a biography of Billy Connolly, and I feel amazing. Not physically, I'm really sore, but emotionally I feel very free.
Last night I finished a diary which I started in January 2008. I was feeling pretty worked up about a lot of things, and now I don't see why I was worried about the majority of them to start off with.
I had an amazing time yesterday. I went to Kings Park and had a picnic with people I had only once met previously (last week), but for two of them who are in my drama class. Actually, I'd not met the majority of them at all, maybe half at tops. I'm so glad I've been introduced to them. I'm only completely comfortable with one person in my life, or at least, I was, and about half an hour into it I felt completely myself. I think it was something to do with how open and comfortable everyone else seemed to be in their own right. This just as an example- I think there were seven, eight, or nine openly gay people there. I don't have a problem with gays, quite the opposite, but I've never actually been in an environment with a lot of people (There were about 30-40) in which gays feel they can be open. It was lovely to see people so comfortable with themselves. I think, in the 10 short hours I've spent with these people, I've found something I've been missing for a goddamn long time, though I'm not sure exactly what it is.
I was told a couple of things by a few people that got me a little worried, and I was even more worried that when I confronted someone about it, their attitude still seemed to be much the same. This is only a small hurdle, but if I don't discuss it, I know I can dismiss it. The past is the past and people do change, if only slightly.
Other worries I've decided are inconsequential, because my future is my future, and I should spend my time focusing on trying to make the present as good as I can in preparation for the future rather than waste my time worrying about it.
I feel incredibly optimistic and happy as of this morning.
Where has that weight from my shoulders gone?
Last night I finished a diary which I started in January 2008. I was feeling pretty worked up about a lot of things, and now I don't see why I was worried about the majority of them to start off with.
I had an amazing time yesterday. I went to Kings Park and had a picnic with people I had only once met previously (last week), but for two of them who are in my drama class. Actually, I'd not met the majority of them at all, maybe half at tops. I'm so glad I've been introduced to them. I'm only completely comfortable with one person in my life, or at least, I was, and about half an hour into it I felt completely myself. I think it was something to do with how open and comfortable everyone else seemed to be in their own right. This just as an example- I think there were seven, eight, or nine openly gay people there. I don't have a problem with gays, quite the opposite, but I've never actually been in an environment with a lot of people (There were about 30-40) in which gays feel they can be open. It was lovely to see people so comfortable with themselves. I think, in the 10 short hours I've spent with these people, I've found something I've been missing for a goddamn long time, though I'm not sure exactly what it is.
I was told a couple of things by a few people that got me a little worried, and I was even more worried that when I confronted someone about it, their attitude still seemed to be much the same. This is only a small hurdle, but if I don't discuss it, I know I can dismiss it. The past is the past and people do change, if only slightly.
Other worries I've decided are inconsequential, because my future is my future, and I should spend my time focusing on trying to make the present as good as I can in preparation for the future rather than waste my time worrying about it.
I feel incredibly optimistic and happy as of this morning.
Where has that weight from my shoulders gone?
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Sometimes I get sick of myself.
When I get worked up, I do stupid, grand exits. And it's not like I can go back to the person I storm away from, or reprimand, or anything. And it's going to lose me many friends. I just get annoyed at people not making effort. That's what it is, every time. Maybe it's me being paranoid that they're not making an effort, or maybe they are actually not making an effort.
I always regret it afterwards, no matter what the circumstance. And I want to just sign back in, or walk back in, all casual. Having done that, you can't.
And I feel guilty, and terrible.
But I can't stop myself from doing it.
I always regret it afterwards, no matter what the circumstance. And I want to just sign back in, or walk back in, all casual. Having done that, you can't.
And I feel guilty, and terrible.
But I can't stop myself from doing it.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Terrified, angry, and sad.
Thank you Father. Thank you so much.
I expected you to say no, but for you to crush me so effortlessly? No, I'm reacting badly. It wasn't too bad, what you said.
"Hey Dad, I'm meant to be part of a performance on the twelfth of December, which is a Sunda-"
"Yeah, you can go."
That shut me down for a minute or tow. I plucked up the courage to finish my question.
"I... I was wondering if you'd like to go?"
Straight off the bat, you were. And not with the reason against it I was expecting.
"I'm not interested in the theatre."
Not even your own daughter? You have never come to see anything I have ever been a part of. The only reason you ever went to see Callan's soccer games was because he was a boy, you are a sexist bigot, and he was doing something that you forced him to do. You know, I asked to play soccer. You told me that I'd be better suited to netball.
I asked to play soccer quite often actually. Almost every game of Callan's. He had about seven years worth of soccer. That's quite a few games.
You know, you backed up your reasoning when you saw I was upset that you didn't want to come. But you backed it up with "My father never once came to see any of my soccer games. I was in the top league for boys, I was in the fucking Bristol Boys." Yet you always say you aspire to be different to your father. And you went to the majority of Callan's games.
Fuck you, hey. Fuck you.
Actually, I lie. You did come to see something I was a part of. One assembly in primary school. Of course, because of that one incident, that makes it all better, that shows you've supported my dreams.
About two years ago, I did a performance that you couldn't come to. Callan taped it. Upon showing you the playback, the things you said were:
"Your costume is all wrong. You should have got Lak to make it for you."
"Your voice is too quiet."
"You shouldn't move about as much."
Then,at the end.
"You're not going to make it as an actor."
Not one word of praise. Of fucking course you supported me.
In the current situation, as an afterthought, you added the reason I thought you would. "I'm not going if your mum is there."
Yeah, it's a huge auditorium style church with quite a number of seats. I'm sure you're going to end up next to mum, and there's such a huge possibility of having to talk to her.
Even so, that, just that, I wouldn't have minded. It's no more understandable, but it would have been far less hurtful.
Later I asked you why you didn't like the theatre. You told me that it was full of pompous full-of-themselves twats. I said thanks, and you told me that you weren't calling me one, that I was involved in an amateur production, I hadn't reached that stage yet. Besides, my dream wasn't to act. Actually dad, my first dream was never to become a teacher, it was always to act. But oh well. I've changed that for you.
Anyway, I asked why you didn't want to come if an amateur production was different. You said "You just haven't experienced it yet."
I'm pretty sure I know who I work with better than you do, Father. Anyway, that isn't accurate reasoning.
"Besides, that isn't the only reason I don't like theatre."
"What are the others?"
You were silent.
"Okay, if you can't answer that, why did you supply that reasoning as the first reason against coming to my production?"
"It wasn't against your production, it was against theatre."
"But you used it in direct correlation to not coming to my production- the first reason you supplied, straight off the bat, was that you didn't like theatre; now I've asked you why you don't like theatre and you give me that reason.. does that not indicate that that's why you don't want to come to my production? Yet, you're contradicting yourself."
I was actually so fucking proud of myself, I was holding back tears and I still managed to give a coherent sentence. Yes, I'm weak like that, and react badly to small things.
"You're producing an amateur production, that doesn't apply to you!"
"Yet that's why you don't like theatre."
"Yes."
"And you're not coming to my production because you don't like theatre."
"Yes. Among other reasons."
"Yet that was the first reason you supplied, and the first reason you gave for that was that people from theatre are full of themselves and twats."
"Yes."
"And you believe amateur actors exhibit some of these qualities?"
"Yes."
"You believe people in my production exhibit some of these qualities?"
"Yes."
"Okay. Thankyou."
I walked to my room.
Later, when I came out, you asked if Callan and Danica were going.
I was feeling kind of bitter at this point. I knew you only asked it to see if they would be there for you on that Sunday. I ignored that and said "I don't know, would they want to? It's only me after all."
You didn't hear it, neither did you hear it the next three times. When you did hear it, you were silent for a second.
"What do you mean, it's only you?"
"Well, it's only going to be me they're going for, out of obligation. I don't like obligation. Why should they? If they want to go, they can go. If they don't, they don't."
"Jesus Christ! I asked a simple fucking question!"
I've never sworn in front of you, but I was so tempted to then.
"It's their decision. Don't ask me." Then, because I'm weak, and I was trying to hide tears, I came to my room, where I'm writing this out now, and posting it up somewhere later, so I can look back at your wonderful encouragement. You were right the first time you saw the playback. I'm never going to get anywhere in acting. So I'm giving up. Giving up the only passion I have nowadays. I suppose I'm crap enough that it doesn't matter. And I'm going to tell everyone not to come to the performance that would be coming because of me.
You know, I actually hate you. Once again, you've brought me to an ultimatum. I'm going to tell you all about my life after my sixteenth birthday. All about it. And then, judging by your reaction, I'm going to decide whether I want you to see me or not.
Fuck your concert tickets. Fuck the stereo. Fuck my clarinet, fuck my guitar.
You can have it all back. Sell it. Make some money. Should come to a grand and a half. Go on a holiday. Fuck off and never come back. I'm an ungrateful little bitch who doesn't deserve you, or your money.
Probably what you think.
Just, please, remember. Just because you gave up dreams of having a family and leading a happy life, doesn't mean you have to crush someone else's dreams. You've already crused mine. I've given up. I'm pursuing a sensible job, in a sensible career. Little Miss Sensibility. You've already crushed one person, you don't have to move on to everybody else.
You can live a happy life without a family. It probably doesn't help your cause tormenting the only family you have left. I respect you so much, Father. I just cannot live with this anymore. I'm fucking weak. It's time to make a decision.
It's not just this. It's everything. This, just this small thing, has pushed me so close to the edge, and I can fall one way or the other, but either way, I'm going to fall, and I'm fucking glad.
It's everything that's contributed to it. All those hours of arguments, of one sided yelling, of crying, and insults and death threats to mum and violence threats to us kids and mum and and occasional actual violence. It's all come to a head, and I'm not seeing another useless counsellor. I'm a fucking fantastic liar. I was still suicidal when I left my last, but she thought I was fine. These last few months have been the happiest of my life, and now, you've come along and made me feel like this.
You went to your room and lay on your bed for two hours at the end of that day.
Yes, you have fucking depression. I'm probably making it worse.
Deal with it. I've had to. Don't fucking complain that you want to kill yourself when I have tried four times. I was pretty fucking close to trying again on Sunday night. Not as close as I have been before. But it was because of YOU. YOU were the cause of three of those attempts. No, that's wrong. I was the cause, because I reacted badly to the situations YOU put me in.
Thanks.
It's down to one of us to make a decision.
So I'm starting it.
I expected you to say no, but for you to crush me so effortlessly? No, I'm reacting badly. It wasn't too bad, what you said.
"Hey Dad, I'm meant to be part of a performance on the twelfth of December, which is a Sunda-"
"Yeah, you can go."
That shut me down for a minute or tow. I plucked up the courage to finish my question.
"I... I was wondering if you'd like to go?"
Straight off the bat, you were. And not with the reason against it I was expecting.
"I'm not interested in the theatre."
Not even your own daughter? You have never come to see anything I have ever been a part of. The only reason you ever went to see Callan's soccer games was because he was a boy, you are a sexist bigot, and he was doing something that you forced him to do. You know, I asked to play soccer. You told me that I'd be better suited to netball.
I asked to play soccer quite often actually. Almost every game of Callan's. He had about seven years worth of soccer. That's quite a few games.
You know, you backed up your reasoning when you saw I was upset that you didn't want to come. But you backed it up with "My father never once came to see any of my soccer games. I was in the top league for boys, I was in the fucking Bristol Boys." Yet you always say you aspire to be different to your father. And you went to the majority of Callan's games.
Fuck you, hey. Fuck you.
Actually, I lie. You did come to see something I was a part of. One assembly in primary school. Of course, because of that one incident, that makes it all better, that shows you've supported my dreams.
About two years ago, I did a performance that you couldn't come to. Callan taped it. Upon showing you the playback, the things you said were:
"Your costume is all wrong. You should have got Lak to make it for you."
"Your voice is too quiet."
"You shouldn't move about as much."
Then,at the end.
"You're not going to make it as an actor."
Not one word of praise. Of fucking course you supported me.
In the current situation, as an afterthought, you added the reason I thought you would. "I'm not going if your mum is there."
Yeah, it's a huge auditorium style church with quite a number of seats. I'm sure you're going to end up next to mum, and there's such a huge possibility of having to talk to her.
Even so, that, just that, I wouldn't have minded. It's no more understandable, but it would have been far less hurtful.
Later I asked you why you didn't like the theatre. You told me that it was full of pompous full-of-themselves twats. I said thanks, and you told me that you weren't calling me one, that I was involved in an amateur production, I hadn't reached that stage yet. Besides, my dream wasn't to act. Actually dad, my first dream was never to become a teacher, it was always to act. But oh well. I've changed that for you.
Anyway, I asked why you didn't want to come if an amateur production was different. You said "You just haven't experienced it yet."
I'm pretty sure I know who I work with better than you do, Father. Anyway, that isn't accurate reasoning.
"Besides, that isn't the only reason I don't like theatre."
"What are the others?"
You were silent.
"Okay, if you can't answer that, why did you supply that reasoning as the first reason against coming to my production?"
"It wasn't against your production, it was against theatre."
"But you used it in direct correlation to not coming to my production- the first reason you supplied, straight off the bat, was that you didn't like theatre; now I've asked you why you don't like theatre and you give me that reason.. does that not indicate that that's why you don't want to come to my production? Yet, you're contradicting yourself."
I was actually so fucking proud of myself, I was holding back tears and I still managed to give a coherent sentence. Yes, I'm weak like that, and react badly to small things.
"You're producing an amateur production, that doesn't apply to you!"
"Yet that's why you don't like theatre."
"Yes."
"And you're not coming to my production because you don't like theatre."
"Yes. Among other reasons."
"Yet that was the first reason you supplied, and the first reason you gave for that was that people from theatre are full of themselves and twats."
"Yes."
"And you believe amateur actors exhibit some of these qualities?"
"Yes."
"You believe people in my production exhibit some of these qualities?"
"Yes."
"Okay. Thankyou."
I walked to my room.
Later, when I came out, you asked if Callan and Danica were going.
I was feeling kind of bitter at this point. I knew you only asked it to see if they would be there for you on that Sunday. I ignored that and said "I don't know, would they want to? It's only me after all."
You didn't hear it, neither did you hear it the next three times. When you did hear it, you were silent for a second.
"What do you mean, it's only you?"
"Well, it's only going to be me they're going for, out of obligation. I don't like obligation. Why should they? If they want to go, they can go. If they don't, they don't."
"Jesus Christ! I asked a simple fucking question!"
I've never sworn in front of you, but I was so tempted to then.
"It's their decision. Don't ask me." Then, because I'm weak, and I was trying to hide tears, I came to my room, where I'm writing this out now, and posting it up somewhere later, so I can look back at your wonderful encouragement. You were right the first time you saw the playback. I'm never going to get anywhere in acting. So I'm giving up. Giving up the only passion I have nowadays. I suppose I'm crap enough that it doesn't matter. And I'm going to tell everyone not to come to the performance that would be coming because of me.
You know, I actually hate you. Once again, you've brought me to an ultimatum. I'm going to tell you all about my life after my sixteenth birthday. All about it. And then, judging by your reaction, I'm going to decide whether I want you to see me or not.
Fuck your concert tickets. Fuck the stereo. Fuck my clarinet, fuck my guitar.
You can have it all back. Sell it. Make some money. Should come to a grand and a half. Go on a holiday. Fuck off and never come back. I'm an ungrateful little bitch who doesn't deserve you, or your money.
Probably what you think.
Just, please, remember. Just because you gave up dreams of having a family and leading a happy life, doesn't mean you have to crush someone else's dreams. You've already crused mine. I've given up. I'm pursuing a sensible job, in a sensible career. Little Miss Sensibility. You've already crushed one person, you don't have to move on to everybody else.
You can live a happy life without a family. It probably doesn't help your cause tormenting the only family you have left. I respect you so much, Father. I just cannot live with this anymore. I'm fucking weak. It's time to make a decision.
It's not just this. It's everything. This, just this small thing, has pushed me so close to the edge, and I can fall one way or the other, but either way, I'm going to fall, and I'm fucking glad.
It's everything that's contributed to it. All those hours of arguments, of one sided yelling, of crying, and insults and death threats to mum and violence threats to us kids and mum and and occasional actual violence. It's all come to a head, and I'm not seeing another useless counsellor. I'm a fucking fantastic liar. I was still suicidal when I left my last, but she thought I was fine. These last few months have been the happiest of my life, and now, you've come along and made me feel like this.
You went to your room and lay on your bed for two hours at the end of that day.
Yes, you have fucking depression. I'm probably making it worse.
Deal with it. I've had to. Don't fucking complain that you want to kill yourself when I have tried four times. I was pretty fucking close to trying again on Sunday night. Not as close as I have been before. But it was because of YOU. YOU were the cause of three of those attempts. No, that's wrong. I was the cause, because I reacted badly to the situations YOU put me in.
Thanks.
It's down to one of us to make a decision.
So I'm starting it.
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