Today is Christmas. I went as went to the bakery, where Jaime and I met the last two days. We crossed notional. He jumped on the plane to Bangladesh yesterday. his last stopover before he will be back home again in San Francisco, where I hopefully – to whom ever I am praying now, fate, destiny? – will see you again this year, you winderful, gorgeous man.
So 24th. I feel terrible cold. Inside. Waking up at 6 a.m. as usual, under my two pillows, cursing the curse of christmas, fucking christmas, designed and wrapped, commercialized and suffering a growing lack of meaning and I don´t of course don´t fucking care about, wrapped or not, in toilet paper or in your glossy messturbation surrounded by naked angels. But below all this fucking christmas, it is a reason to get together, with family, friends and I miss fucking christmas, lying under the massiness of cold, checking social media for an embrace, cursing the curse. Fucking christmas makes me feel loose and lonely. Without begging for sympathy. I wouldn´t dare to because of fucking christmas. I don´t share any of my respect for, not even a glass of wine, a beer or a bottle of strong schnaps I will gobble for you, you christmess. I couldn´t have choosen my place better, far away, not to find myself having a feast, finally because of christmas. So I went early morning for breakfast. The cashier at the bakery wishes me “Happy Christmas.” – “Thank you, but I am not religious.” Receiving knitted brows. There would be only one place where I want to be, home, but home doesn´t exist, not in your cribs and not in the embracement of donkeys and mules.
“Breakfast will take up to 10 min. [Because of one of the daily power cuts].” – “Oh man, it´s no problem, it´s your tradition, man.” A loud and proud statement of open-mindedness and understanding, with a strong german accent. Thanks for this christmas giggle.