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Silent Night

On a night like this, when everything is quiet when it shouldn´t be, I wonder if somewhere beyond the vast abyss there is a parallel universe where habitual chaos transcribes into tranquil lucidity. The traffic outside my window, the clicking of the mouse and the warmth of the laptop against my lap seem all too familiar and languid for a festive season like this. For the first time in many years I am staying in on a christmas day. The fully booked movie theatre resulted in some disguised blessings in the form of a hearty home-cooked meal and some long overdue cuddles. There was once a time when I thought it criminal to be idle on a day like this, the wild and reckless debauchery were perhaps masked fear of loneliness, which on hindsight, never really curbed my hungry-soul syndrome. I am happy now, in a simple, bookish and perhaps even boring way. A friend just called from Spain with season greetings and a long-awaited good news, there is an abundance of warmth and love in my life, the shoulder next to me is steadfast and determined, he is twenty seven today and still looks at me the way he did seven years ago, the smell of scented candles and cakes and a smiling Elmo and a 1979 edition of Brave New World, a pair of blue gloves and the seeds of unwavering friendship. The pendulum of sanguine melancholy is momentarily suspended on the upside of this roller-coaster ride, and christmas is suddenly more than just a jolly Ho Ho Ho.

 

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