picking it clean


I am sitting here wanting to fill my heart with the holiday under the garrish glow of fluorescents; my own temperature controlled nightmare. Funny how those fortunate enough to have jobs that don’t require them to work on the holidays choose to spend their time mass consuming and forcing people in retail to work extended hours, to take time away from their loved ones, perpetuating the misguidedness of the season.

I am sitting here in my fish-bowl, looking out. No one wants to buy glasses for Christmas. This is our diluted version of hunting and gathering. Eyes scan the racks, people circle like vultures. A while back I found a dead baby deer. It looked like it had broken it’s leg and some scavengers had ravaged the remains over night. Nature is beautiful in its brutality. Vultures circled the sky, hung in the trees like death, cawing and territorial. There is much the same scene at the mall today. How bird-like the people and how dead baby deer all the merchandise. This is how we are teaching our children to be sustainable– but it isn’t really sustainable is it?

I spent hours yesterday sending messages to people I love, imparting in some small and minute way how much they mean to me. My fingers hurt, but my heart felt light. Their kind words in turn were the best present I could ask for; I am truly grateful for the excessive amount of love I have in my life.

I think about that dead baby deer, decaying, giving back to the earth, and I remember how those birds of carrion picked it clean.


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