A jolly Christmas rant

I hope somebody liked the poem in the last post, because i did.

Its come to that time of year, the one where i really dislike the most. Because its fake, like branded bags in some back alley of some asian country. Actually, it doesn't even have to be a back alley, just the other day i saw some guy selling bags in the middle of orchard under pass.

There comes a time when i wonder what is real. This tormented time, is what i like to call between monday and sunday. Sometimes we never know whats real, so we use this cross out whats not method.

Christmas is fake because
Jesus, though he might not be the reason for the season was not born on christmas day.
Christmas is not really a religious holiday, because its all about what i'm going to buy for the people i care about.
Its that time of year, where we pretend to care about the people we're with.
Nobody really knows what defines the term "somebody they are about"
We give it all up for the guy who "died for my sins"
And i feel the weight of it because, i did not let jesus into my heart.
Damm those christians who think vindication from their sins means absolution of their sins.
Almost cultishly believe that sin is not part of human nature.
If we were not made to sin, even in this piss hole of a world, there'd be probably at least one guy who has never commited a sin by every moral standard.
Just because you believe you're free from sin, and should spend the bloody holidays enjoying yourselves getting drunk laid and happily guilt free, probably means you should.
Well not me, i'm off to enjoy being happily self destructive, purging myself of this wide eyed fast fix, indulging in a healthy dose of R(A)ted cynicism.
Be that healthy cynical adult society so demands.
Morph into the cliche i hate so much, didnt you remember? You Are What You Hate.

haha that was nice, i guess i'm all steeled up for christmas, and new years.

Actually you know what else is funny, people seem to compare other peoples sufferings to other people (never their own (well seldom)). Like "how are you suffering? there are so many starving/uncared for/terminally ill children in the world". Why didn't any church every point out "How did jesus suffer, there were so many other horrible ways to die?" I guess its because he took the weight of the worlds sins on his shoulders. You know, i really wonder who came up with that idea, well christianity has a pretty bloody past, so its probably hard to tell. But it must be really wonderful to breathe freedom when you dont deaserve it, its like candy from a baby, or free food from somebody you hate whos obligated to give it to you. Its like revenge, litost, its like something has gone divinely "your way", its like winning the lottery, and that overwhelming sense of independence, knowing that you dont need anyone for that second, you're on top. Its the most beautiful feeling in the world, crushing somebody eles dreams, its almost like a dream itself. But thats not real, because the lottery money will run out, the free dinner will be over, and that baby might gorw up to be some body building freak that might smash your head in when you're old, alone, and in pain from the artharitis.

I'm sorry if its a dark post, but tis a dark season, streets covered in red, and green like the post scene from some alien versus human bloodbath. The reality of the season is those people who have nothing left, because everybody at some point had something. Eventually everything fades, its those people who had a chance to have something that lasted, curled up in a dark corner away from the lights, beating themselves up for throwing something that mattered away for the glimmer of something better. Those people really feel the christmas cheer the most, because they're not drunk on it. Those people know the best what christmas means, because its more than lights and endless boozing, its the recgonition that our deserts might one day be, Just, and our freedom, peace of mind, and happiness is not to be taken for granted. Its knowing that Jesus might be able to take away our sins, but their still ours, and like our babies, leave our hands stained with blood, the ugly picture might be gone, but the memory remains (if you're having such a hard time grasping this, consider why its still debated whether the Holocaust actually happened).

Dont just write me off as some psychotic neurotic fool, try to understand this first.