typical query:
"it's almost the 25th! what have you got planned?!?"
typical answer:
"well, umm.. nothing..."
DISCLAIMER: this might as well read as: "A Christmas Baby's Whining", so if you don't want me to ruin the whole yuletide feel, i suggest you stop reading
okay?
so it isn't any big secret that almost everyone i know knows that i'm a christmas baby, (25th of december, 6 am, 1984 to be exact), and despite what they think about it being really great, i would be the first to say that it's not. it's really not. it's never been "great". never.
this is probably why i don't really have a penchant for remembering other peoples' birthdays, i've never seen "birthdays" the way anyone else sees it. Birthdays for me meant getting one gift a year, not being able to invite friends over, getting hassled by my parents (my dad particularly) because i had to: a) get dressed because we were going somewhere (and we ALWAYS went somewhere) and b) hurry up because we were going to be late.
by "going somewhere", it meant going to everyone else's Christmas parties except ours. It meant putting on fake smiles, fake appreciations, fake moods, (although i must say that i AM pretty appreciative of the people who host the parties). There's this particular chapter in Jose Rizal's El Filibusterismo where he describes how Christmas can be such an ordeal for children, and i immediately identified with it (must be why it's one of my most favorite books ever).
big effing deal, you might say. Yeah right. You probably wouldn't know how it feels. especially when you're a kid and you KNOW it's your birthday, but you see how everyone else gets better presents than you, how they have all these things you want and rub it in your face, how you want to invite your friends over but you know they won't be able to come, how you just want to go home but the moment you show any sign of wanting to leave, your own father brands you as being an "ingrate", a "brat" and an "idiot". It's scarring, i tell you... Happy Birthday, indeed...
so really, when you put all of these together, you can see why i'm not really into christmas/birthdays, how it's just another day for me... i tried to change my opinion of it countless times, but i guess some wounds just don't seem to heal, huh?
i mean, when i was in Manila i tried so hard to celebrate christmas the way i wanted to, there was even this one time that I DIDN'T go home to Bacolod and i spent most of the 25th in my room. sleeping. I never got away with it again because the succeeding years my parents wanted me home and wouldn't hear of any personal plans i made (and i made plans, just to tell you).
So here we are again, it's the 24th and i've got Collective Soul and Counting Crows on Winamp, waiting. I should get dressed soon. I should be ready soon. It's so troublesome. And Stressful.
Merry Christmas (to everyone else)
mauve angelus dreamt on* 1:28 AM
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