There was a red light that had me stopped right before the freeway entrance. I lazily looked out of my window at the vacuum repair shop on the corner. They had recently paid to have their windows painted with a Christmas theme. I audibly laughed because whoever painted the windows hadn’t allotted enough space for “Happy Holidays” on one window. “Happy” fit just fine, (as it always seems to, doesn’t it?), but they could only fit “Holida” underneath it. “Happy Holida——ys!” read the two windows. How perfect. I admired the faint glow coming from inside the shop, the checkered window framing, the old vacuum ads. I caught myself imagining that there must be a magical hour inside the shop; that if I came by often enough, maybe I’d befriend a quirky old man who would reveal to me that there was a door in the back that led you to an alternate time. Maybe with knights, or dragons, or bizarre animals that talked. I caught myself believing it. I caught myself believing that life could be like an early 80s movie with talking dragon dogs and little gnomes. That was something else.
just a side note i don’t care if sufjan’s song is in an olive garden commercial. i am ok with it. he can do what he wants. i am 22 and not snotty about that stuff anymore. i support him.
All manners of love at any cost. Secret Santa. Christmas shopping. Five dollar comedy shows. Writing on my car. Buying wrapping paper. Remembering good times. Saving things. Decorating the tree. Smelling good smells. Brushing my teeth before bed. Day by day by day by day, one day and one day and one day and one day at a time. Every day a different day but every day can be okay if you remember that. It is love. I will have to run or hide.