and all through the slum
the people were drinking
to make themselves numb
the stockings were torn
and empty inside
just like the people
who all tried to hide
the feelings of shame
and helpless despair
all wondering why
no one seemed to care.
When all of a sudden
ten gunshots rang out
nine reindeer were dead
and the fat man laid out
the presents were stolen
the children all cried
When they woke and were told
that Santa had died.
When they grew up they found out
their parents had lied.
The truth was poverty
hidden by pride
Yeah, ho ho ho, and how are you on this fine Xmas morn? I don't know if I shared this before or if this link works, but in case it does not here is what the link might have taken you too.
The Blog Family. Perhaps just two as others do not want to be online anymore, at least for now. They are always welcome and there is always hope we will share words again. Hope we will create something permanent. How to bond with someone who deletes everything they create, that is the question. Fruit falls from a tree and to the tree it is gone, but fruit returns. We eat the fruit and to us it is gone, but then, more fruit grows and falls. The cycle of existence, non-existence, and back to existence again. Or is it non-existence, existence, then back to non-existence again. Which is the permanent state? Which came first, the chicken or the egg?
In the comment I just left on the previous entry, I identified with impermanence as the reality and permanence as the illusion. I suppose that correlates with my perspective that alone is reality and sharing brings an illusion of not being alone. Caring brings depths and emotion to the illusion. Spending time together builds references to support the illusion. Sharing on different sensory levels brings still more depth and memory of more tangible evidence that the illusion is real. Is it? The answer to that question is exploring a definition for alone.
Illusion or not, the sharing, the caring, the belief that we are not alone is so precious to us humans. The precious. At least it is to me, but then, I am not like anyone I know. I am probably like others in this world of almost eight billion people, but I've yet to meet anyone like me. Then I read your words and feel like you are a lot like me in some essential ways. Sister of another mother, blog family.
I keep trying to share the experience, the precious...
And here we are once again on the holiday billions celebrate for many different reasons. Delusions, illusions, or history - you choose. Santa is very real to many children. Jesus is very real to many adults. Family is very real to most people. None of this is real to me. The love that each represent is real, but no one shares it with the belief and depth others seem to share. I have no family. I am still very lucky I have friends. Friends who gather on this eve to celebrate being friends. Some of the people I only see once a year, yet they are caring and some are very happy to see each other. We share intelligent conversation on all sorts of topics and generally see things from similar perspectives. It is refreshing.
Good food too. The party has a Swedish theme as the hostess is from Sweden and I love the fishes and meatballs and other dishes. I brought shrimp and rolls. Everybody brings something that fits in with the Swedish fare, mostly. Yummy deserts too. It is one of my favorite parties because of the people and the food, but especially the people. I should get together with some of them more often.
Back to the Bond marathon now. You Only Live Twice, after all.
Whatever you believe in, may you share love today.
Narf :)
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