Oh goody. It’s that time of the year again. You know, that awful time of the year that may or may not, but certainly is, a disgrace? That time when even your mortal enemy acts like the better person? That time when everyone seems jollier around you, despite the grand amount of exams and assignments? That time when you’re afraid of hangin’ around with your friends because you’re paranoid enough to think that they’re actually planning something devious behind you?
Yes, that time. Christmastime. Blargh
All right, maybe not. Not yet, that is to say. But soon. Like, in a week. Like, in seven days, 14 hours and- fine! I just wanted to be accurate for once…
The thing is, I loathe Xmas. I loathe the very name of it. Because surely, it’s hardly enough with the maths you suffer in school. Oh no, you have to endure your sufferings because your math book never learned algebra, never tried to look for its own solution but to always, always, ask for your help. So, why not just change the very term to Ymas instead? Woah, that’s such a novel idea, I believe we should make it official.
Ymas is the deal; every single question you have, is loaded in this very term.
Ymas, Y-mas, Why-mas, Why?
Exactly, why do we have Ymas? It’s unnecessary, it’s a nuisance, an eyesore, a guilt-tripper, because you accidentally forgot to buy gifts, you bought them in wrong colors and have to cope with the incessant whining from your siblings and last, but not least of them all, a thief. The money you saved for that new game? That new phone that keeps screaming at you ”Buy me already!” ? Yeah, well, ain’t none of that no more.
Ymas involves obnoxious children with runny noses and hungry stares for gifts, for candy that is yours. It involves family reunion that you quite possibly don’t want to participate in because ”Darling, do you remember auntie Martha? Remember when you ran around in her garden-”, yeah, you’d rather not remember none of that embarrassing shtick with the hose and the food coloring. I mean it, suppress your vile childhood memories! They do you no good.
Sure, there is some odd magic in this, which might lie in history, culture, religion as well as beliefs. It’s strangely cozy with the lights from the windows and the Ymas tree out, basking in all its own glory. On few, but existing occasions, do even I agree that Ymas has its good moments. It’s nice to receive something, or the fact that you have winter break, (if you don’t celebrate it), because that hectic semester sucked out more than your joy, you’ll never recover that piece of your soul anymore and I’m so sorry for your loss. It’s also nice to see people being kind, even though some of them want you six feet under the ground. However.
However.
It doesn’t change the fact that Ymas is still loathe-worthy. Why? Because infuriating carols are on repeat throughout the whole break, that’s why! I hate them. I Loathe. Them. Carols that sing of mythical oafs who gives you coal because it was not nice to tie your siblings around a tree. Because these carols are to dictate your attitude and behavior for a mere event that doesn’t even last for eternity. I curse, you curse, we all curse, and this puny carol think it can tell me to mind my language? Not gonna lie, it does a splendid job. I have failed the majority.
Also, the lyrics in some of these; Frosty, The Snowman? It’s rude, you don’t question magic. Santa Claus Is Coming To Town? Congratulations, you have inflicted fear in children because of this oaf. And the worst of them all, dare I even say it? Yes, why not.
Rudolph, the Red Nosed Reindeer.
Now this, this is a serious problem. You think it’s just some innocent song with nice animals laughing around, about to bring Ymas to these ungrateful kids? Hah, you wish. It’s about this reindeer who gets bullied because of its red nose, (not gonna lie, it would have been heaps better if it was green) and then, the mythical oaf asks for a favor; to guide his sleigh for the night. Reindeer agrees and party in the house ensures.
A carol, about a mistreated being, and then one asks them for a favor. Likely to happen? In odd universes where getting emotionally abused is the new black, maybe, but never here.
Doesn’t it get you slightly irate? Nah, since it’s just a carol that has brainwashed thousands of guppies in the stream, whereas we’ve been in it once upon a time. Carols are the equal of lullabies for babies as they are the chimes of evil. They are bad. They. Bad. Though, they are rather catchy…
Despite my negative view on Ymas and all things it brings, if it makes you happy, go for it. It’s not like I’m about to stop you from getting that gift a kind being has given to you. Hell, I’d fight you if you were to take mine. Now, shoo, enjoy this year’s Ymas.
Happy Ymas, folks!
