about the talking fish

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Writer. Wheelman. Occasional DIY mechanic. Walking collection of hang-ups. Hopeless romantic. Old-school. Analog soul in a digital world. I am all of these things and more.

Monday, December 24, 2001

Christmas has been in the air for longer than I've noticed. Tomorrow's already Christmas Day, and yet I feel as if I'm stuck somewhere around December 1st.

Ever since high school came, Christmas for me is without its usual overload of anticipation and sentimentality. Perhaps it's because I've outgrown the entire package of chilly days, ridiculous decorations of Christmas trees and mistletoe (because the Philippines is a tropical country), and the tireless spending, shopping and wrapping of gifts to give. Or perhaps it's simply because I've been too busy to notice the fictitious but grand regalia slowly being put up around me. Or maybe it's because, for a CHRISTIAN celebration, Christmas --- that oxymoronic monstrosity of extravagance disguised as a poor kid's simple birthday --- is held on a PAGAN holiday.

Or because I've become too jaded with the romanticized, idealized vision of Christmas as a universal feast where everyone temporarily forgets their problems in a sumptuous noche buena dinner and a pile of torn gift wrappers. Corollarily, it's because many not-so-lucky people don't celebrate Christmas with the same metropolitan excess of extravagance and luxury. They don't have fiesta ham and chicken pastel for noche buena; instead their meager feast consists of sardines, tuna and rice from relief operations.

Whatever the reason...maybe I don't look at Christmas the same way I used to because I grew up and developed a conscience.

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