Here we are, once again in the time of cold weather and Seasonal Onset Depression. I can smell the blood from the cuts from your arms already everyone! But enough with that, I’m here for another opinion piece, and that’s what I want to do, not write about large gash in your arm from an Ashen Knife you made because snow is depressing. “They say Christmas comes earlier every year”. Let’s see how Grinch-y I can be.

Okay, let’s start of with my opinion of Christmas: For a 12 month wait through all bitterly weather, it’s not all that fun really. Winter is usually restricted to November, December, January and February, but when we get all the time here, not so much of a spectacle, let alone the lack of snow. And once I finally do reach that 12th month, I’ve practically worn out all interest in anything. My sense of humor (And the genuine sense of humor, not the one were I call people fat or goths) has all but been consumed by Mathematics and stress, so really there comes nothing to mind when I yearn for something. And besides, I can just earn it any ways. My skill level is enough to gain a reward, and those rewards are taken before they even get CLOSE to “Merry Christmas”. And furthermore, when the 25th shows up, all is me, shivering and rattling violently in a blanket, with jack all because I couldn’t think of anything I want. It’s very distracting, even to myself! And it just makes me look all scared or something (But you’ll know when I’m scared, I telegraph it quite well, and violently). And after Christmas is over, it’s just me waiting 2 weeks to continue the most interesting thing in my life: Education, so I can get myself more stressed over Maths, more paranoid over the truth of my peers, and kill myself even further so I can dig his grave.

…I have no words. You probably don’t either: You had a very deep insight to my Sodom little life of stress and paranoia. Anyways, now onto my opinion. With all the things I just mentioned about myself, I really don’t even need to make another paragraph of my decision on Christmas, my words speak for themselves. Really for me, it’s just a whole lot of waiting, in the cold, with nothing to do, because you forgot how to have fun, with no interaction because you aren’t forced to do anything, with a bundle of disappointment to sweeten the deal. And I sometimes WONDER my I’m a pessimist when I write these god forsaken things. Sure, I’ve got plenty of things to do while I’m waiting…Playing the Binding of Isaac, only to get my run ruined by one of those red flashing spiders…Emailing Hopkinson to say I feel really bad about stuff I’ve said only to get no reply or heartly words for when I return…Sleeping? Yeah, no. I have nothing to do. It’s not fun waiting, especially when you have nothing you find fun. So I suppose the best thing I could do is go on a quest of self discovering on the definition of fun without looking at a dictionary. Back to topic, I really don’t care that much about Christmas. I’ll just be playing the waiting game, deprived of all emotions and no one I give a damn about to keep me company (Not that I like company, you people without neural disorders are just flat out weird).

And there you have it. My opinion on Christmas. A boring, cold, disappointing 25 day hoop jumping farmfest. If you’ve noticed a pattern in what I’ve said: Well done. While my older brother was forced to come back over holidays to do his work, I sound like I’m begging to be brought back. At least I’ll have something to do, right?