Tuesday, December 24, 2019

A Christmas Eve

Focus is overrated. I'm certain there is an easy way to accomplish the same effect with a perfectly focused image, and of a higher quality, but most of my favorite images lately have just been missed and manual focus. It impresses content upon the mind rather than insisting on it, somehow more persuasive, a visual truth that anyone can rely on. Perhaps I am going blind in two ways now, rather than the one I had grown used to. Any loss of sense is noticeably simple. 

We returned from Tahoe as a family. Maybe we are going to take another trip after Christmas. Grandma being here is not as bad as I believed it would be, though it has been less than a day, so I speak hopeful truths and wind otherwise. We'll see how I feel in another few hours. I try not to drink as much when grandma is here. She likely believes that's an effect, and she couldn't be more right, though we differ on the specific nature of the cause. Some truths speak from a well of similarities. 

But we are all having a nice family Christmas and this is my family now, with or without my attitudes and opinions, of which there are many, though none that ever seem to suit the mood quite perfectly. 

Why is it that everybody else's version of the mood is assumed to be the more correct version? 

Well, we know why, don't we?

The boy has been having a blast since he got out of school. It is fantastic to watch and play along with. I'm out of work, too. I know the statistics tell us that having children will be a disappointment and won't make us as happy as we had hoped, but that's probably just because it's illegal now to make them work. But being around this boy at this age is pretty fucking great, for now. Who knows how long anything will last. I'll always have time to be disappointed. I've been practicing, so that I don't lose any ground on anyone else. I rehearse my miseries in my sleep, where they are free to roam and find themselves before turning on me. 

Merry Chrisis, My Chryslers.