Holidays come and go. I have experienced 27 of which 21 of them I can vaguely remember. It never fails though, that I always get this warm and fuzzy feeling somewhere close to Thanksgiving and it hovers over me until sometime after my birthday.
I don’t have a large family. It’s just my mom, sister and myself. I have great friends and even some above average associates but the holidays still seem to be a longing time for me. Maybe it plays to my insatiable emotional appetite but still. I never can understand or quite put in perspective my need for more. Drive is good but never being satisfied with anything isn’t.
However, there is a bright side to all this self-realization. In understanding my flaws I am able to channel my constant desires through poetry or stories or painting. This way I can take in what I feel, accept it and release it constructively.
All this to say I write the most during the holidays and right now I’m bored.