Christmas story of the others: out the festivities home

Stories and News No. 701

Once upon a time there was Christmas.
Known and obvious story.
Lights and music.
Decorated trees and balls.
Festoons and songs.
The famous father with the big smiling face.
Music and lights.
Stale story, no surprises.
Until the paper goes away, the box is broken and…
Here is the Gift.
But it's not over, right?
The surprise is still there, sure?
We will run together until the end will come.
Until new beginning will start.
Of this too short or too long year.
It depends, as usual, by the points of view.
Yes, the points of view.
Once upon a time there was Christmas, yours.
Known and obvious story, for you, my friend.
Lights and music, for you, my dear.
Days of levity and shared affection.
For you.
Among the many.
Watching from afar.
Or closely.
I remember, I remember well.
And I do not forget.
Look, take a look, if you can, and try to do the same.
Despite the inexperience.
Of the unfortunate opposite.
Fades music and lowers lights, not at all, though.
Just enough to see.
Even without understanding much.
No… here we go again, this moment arrived.
The world revolves around, yelling, harnessed with vivid colors.
Too much of that.
Forcing me to look at the emptiness.
Xmas, bastard Xmas.
What do you have to celebrate?
What have you to smile?
Your joy explodes and brightens loneliness.
Unbridgeable.
Mine.
They are there.
Believe me, they are there, they are many.
They are the world, not us.
A few.
I know, it would be unfair not to enjoy the beautiful, now.
Nevertheless, please, if you can.
Love the happiness of your moment.
You have to.
However, for them, do not make too much noise.
So that all steps soon and painless, for those left out.
From the house of the festivities.



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