High-school + Drugs = Reality

The Saddest Time of the Year

ImageI remember when I was very young, and my family would always have a Christmas Eve party, and all my cousins would come and it ht me. I would tip toe down the stairs as quietly as I could, have on my feet, and half on the rail because the rail didn’t creak as loud as the actual stairs. I would go downstairs and see new boxes, but then get nervous and go back up stairs to would be so fun to see them and life was good. They brought me a present, and we played hide-n-seek. It was so great, family all around, delicious food, and tons of present under the tree with my name on them. It made me so happy, and everything was perfect. And knowing that Santa would come down my chimney and drink some milk and cookies in exchange for more presents made it all the better. In fact, I was so excited for Santa’s arrival that I would wake up at 5 AM and go downstairs just to see what he brougbed to try to sleep for a minute longer. At 7, I would finally drag my parents out of bed and my mom would put some cinnamon roles in the oven so we could have breakfast. We would open our presents, and I would play with them. Christmas was so perfect when I was little because I had a million things I wanted and I truly believed that having those things would make me happy. But now I realize that the only thing that can make me truly happy is being with the people I love and making memories. Corporate America has RUINED Christmas. I mean, really, they put Black Friday the day after THANKSGIVING. Good job America.

I beseech you, revolt like the French in 1787, and rise up against the corporate tyranny. CLAIM THE HOLIDAY SPIRIT BACK. We cannot allow ourselves to give up the our holidays that come once a year for a sale that comes around every weekend.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s