hopefulBut I got a poem out of it, so it wasn't totally a waste:
A Visit from the Ghosts of Christmas Past
Ah, my ghosts,
swirling around me tonight
be entertained
by the flashing lights
of my Christmas tree,
ersatz joy.
Ah the lights,
flashing red and white -
they remind me
not of birth and life,
but of long nights
in bars that smelled
of stale beer
and staler tobacco smoke,
and gaudy jukeboxes,
and groping lust
and wet streets
where the red signal lights
echoed into the midnight.
Ah my ghosts,
haunting me with the excitement
I knew as a child,
knowing that no one now
will fill up my stocking
with apples and oranges,
cheap toys that flash
and whirr
designed to drive adults mad
in half a day,
candy made just for the season,
the joy of chocolate.
As I sip my faux pumpkin latte,
and remember
the smell of my grandmother's mixer
as she made her pumpkin pies.
I would sit on her step-stool chair,
waiting to lick the bowl
and looked at the calender
that promised snow
that never came.
The night inside of me,
haunted by your memories,
O ghosts,
So dark.
I will finish my coffee,
and turn off the tree lights,
and think of the stars
so many,
such a large universe,
and how I sit here,
less than a grain on time's beach,
and know, my ghosts,
that you are such insignificant things,
and reaffirming that,
I will go to sleep.
Today, I am much better. I'm just a moodswingy kind of person, anyway, but yesterday got me wondering if I needed to be back on meds, but when it only happens once or twice a month for maybe 12 hours, it's kind of not justifiable.
But in other, less depressive news, the MRI went fine...I had absolutely no trouble being in the tube. Supposedly I'll find out tomorrow maybe, or the day after, about the results.
