Sir, could’ya spare me a penny of merry?
I had a dream. Rather, montage of dreams.
There were fireworks brightening up the night, up close. And then there’s everybody – familiar and unfamiliar faces – and I was in the center, smiling but secretly rolling my eyeballs because I thought traditions are lame. And then we were all in pretty dresses mostly red or gold; I still silently sneered at my kid sister because she is growing up to be better than mummy’s first failed product. And then we were feasting one after another – dinner, luncheon, dinner, supper, dinner, dinner, dinner………….*and they are thousand times better than the last supper*
In my dream, I could hear the men cheering, the women chattering, and the adult-liked kids growing up faster than your favourite supercar.
So I woke up, hating today. So I continue to be in pyjamas and lie in the bed, wondering what everyone else is doing. Thinking if I’ve been forgotten. Picturing pictures that I no longer have a spot in.
I looked at my newsfeed and everyone is just updating statuses and photos of food, of families and friends, of their personal fashion parade, of poker cards and chips, of unhealthy snacks and drinks. Of joy.
….so spare me the wishes please, while I resent my weak emotion attachment as the world moves on like nobody’s business.