I survived Christmas

So I survived this Christmas, overloaded, blind-folded and R-rated, in a midst of Mahlerite fantasia, bombing at the end, helpless, calm, and warm. When I pondered the sequence of events happening from the 23rd I could see a worn-out soul seeking not stormy comfort, but the feeling of fulfillment and complacency afterwards. And just like little Alex had to grab Beethoven 9th to conclude his ultra-violent days, mine always consummated in Mahler 3rd. There was plenty of reverence in that music, so rich that at a certain point I collapsed on the floor, limp like a dying sheep. And that collapse at the end of the day, poetically, is my salvation. As if I just fell onto my own world again. The one I have been trying to desert for months, and the one I always come to back from the cold.



Holidays are the cruel time. They stir commotion in your brain and make you uneasy. They cast all happy people around the desolated souls to unravel their wildness. And they drive the talented people into 3rd street, performing melancholy tunes in the wind. If there is God he should be ashamed that people suffer so much to celebrate him. Ah…yes there are people who don't suffer. Sure enough they sit around and watch hazelnuts falling in the open fire. Or even worse gather around the TV watching some movies made to be seen with hazelnuts falling in the open fire. Luckily I have Mahler, and it makes my day-it makes my month. And I should shut up. Well…Mahler composes symphonies stretching almost 2 hours. Being a Mahlerite I might not find too much talking a sin.

This morning after the huge rain, the air smelled the freshness of a new born baby. And the day started with M3 again. I survived the Christmas.