Peace and goodwill to all will begin its annual manifestation not too long from now. And for the next twenty four hours, we’ll get cooking on the better ideas of a day. Things like love, peace and friendship will prevail. And we’ll be really good, or at least better at all the little things that matter. Maybe it’s because Christmas asks us nicely, I don’t know.
But it’s always a good idea to pay attention to small sample sizes, seeing as how great big things come from somewhere. So if we abide to its supple plea with earnest and open souls, then maybe we’re not nearly as fucked as we think. Maybe those other three hundred and sixty four days of the year have a better chance than we ever imagined possible.
Maybe tomorrow is a calendar day that bears a remarkable resemblance to your best friend in the world. Yanno, the one who believes in you so bloody much that if you came to them with a body in the trunk . . well, they’d fetch the shovels, lime and a bottle of something 80 proof. Because maybe when you’re busy dwelling on your worst qualities, Christmas day sees the best of who you really are. There is a definitive spirit to such a thing as that. And that spirit is a gift, given to us in a small sample size that promises bloom. If we ask nicely.