Have yourself a merry little Christmas, Let your heart be light
From now on, our troubles will be out of sight
Have yourself a merry little Christmas, Make the Yule-tide gay,
From now on, our troubles will be miles away.
Such were the words Christina Aguilera was singing when I was told a very sad story. It was a story more depressing than Damien Rice's The Blower's Daughter. While others are ornamenting their lovely abodes with these Christmas items:
My lighter and skinnier-than-ever friend just experienced a whirlwind of discord and mayhem. Yuletide season is supposed to be a time to reconnect bonds and olden relations, but he told me he just went through a modern Greek war complete with armors and shields and sharp weapons. His relatives that just arrived from wherever parts of the world, trying to prove who is better than whom, initiated a rumble that shattered the peace of the season. So he decided to go back to his humble abode, the MetroDorm, to spend Christmas day alone and peacefully.
But for whatever reason disaster did not end there. Due to the chilly weather, a weakling as he is he acquired a terrible flu which caused him almost two days of unpaid sick leave. Great, right? What a nice way to celebrate the season. Now he would be sick and next year he would have a lesser salary. A very nice year-ender gift.
But despite all these he remains strong and somehow happy because he knows there is someone whom he can rely with:
And it's sad cause it's not me, for Pete's sake! I maybe part of it, but I am only third in the hierarchy of pyramid right after the above mentioned what's-his-name and his friends far and near... *Sigh
