so you’re in the supermarket with stevie nicks singing silent night over the store speakers & it hits you. what is it? it is whatever it is that hits you, sometime in december, something irresistably sad & you find yourself softly singing to yourself & leaking from the eyes. you would have been mortified by this in your younger days but these days, perversely, you hope someone sees you & it maybe gives them pause. what is this new social rebel in you, that cares naught for restraint & sameness? who knows. it’s there. it might signify some sort of mental illness, but since it is so mild & so situational, you simply carry on.
thank heavens it is seasonal. not the whole winter just the december part, which is technically mostly fall, but whatever. it probably started when you spied orion in the heavens & slipped back several decades to when that sight meant rejoicing over another year older & another christmas & all the only-child spoiling those events once meant. it set you reflecting on the lean times at hand, something strikingly resembling self-pity.
you’re not sure what to do about this, so you simply carry on.