when these holy days come close, i get vulnerable and sometimes sad. The sadness is nostalgia, looking back on holy days passed. the memories are sacred like the trees cut down by way of culture club celebration.
i try and accept all the killing trees and memories. i do not participate in either anymore. no more pajamafeet sliding around in superhero underoos, no more static electricity shock therapy.
when i face the holy days silently, non-violently, with holy day music and candlelight prayers, visions of sugarplums and books not yet written dancing in my head...
life becomes a wonder... and i become earth's wanderer.
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