with entire assurance i can say that fourteen days before christmas i will pretend like nothing life changing has happened in the last two years and i will break into my parents closet where there will be cases of alcohol from new hampshire and the cat will brush past my leg in a terratorial rush and the absence of wrapping paper and presents will remind me that im home sweet home and i might as well enjoy myself, since nobody else enjoys me, so ill wrap myself in speckled liquors that kitty licks off like her own little treasures and saunter down the stairs like they're a runway past the musky flamboyant tree and fumble with the stereo till The New Amsterdams mellow out the air and the gold flecks dry up on my skin and im on fire in my own holiday spirit way