Christmas kinda died with my mother a few years ago.
Sorry mum, but I just can't do it the way you did...
making everything wonderful for everyone else, doing food the same way every year - cooking pudding no matter how damned hot, decorating the house, moving all the goddam furniture for a plastic tree no one notices is there and then going to church - once a year. Merging the pagan and the Christian rituals always seemed really silly - especially down this end of the planet. Then there's fretting about whether someone will like that cheap whatever I've given them.
The worst thing about Christmas is the feeling that you have to have it.
Yep, Christmas has died...argh! did I say that?...louder!...'CHRISTMAS HAS DIED' But it sounds as if it might come back to life and so only 'CHRISTMAS IS DEAD!' will cut the cheese on this one.
I feel relieved, free, unfettered.
I can enjoy summer without feeling guilty that my festivities are only contributing to the loneliness of all those who haven't a family to pull crackers with...I will have no festivities...
'I WILL HAVE NO FESTIVITIES!'
The statement makes me feel joyous and loving toward my fellow man.