Every year now, around the winter holidays, I get sharp headaches as though someone stepped inside a room full of people chattering about the weather. Here I am now having a bloody headache wondering why can’t these people just shut up and keep their thoughts off about me. Too bad you won’t receive a postcard from me, and neither was I nor will I ever be an invitee at your Christmas Eve dinner parody. Suckers.
The goal of the victims are to scare the neighbours off their property from knocking/ringing at their doors. You put up the psychological show so to make up your environments and yourselves look bigger and meaner for some, and smaller and friendly for others. The kids do still come at your doors taxing your livelihoods, while their parents shy away at a distance. Bitter they sent their kids and not themselves; they’d have asked for your cakes, cars, couches, ovens, computers, radios, and TVs. Finally you give up. So every year you think of destroying pumpkins by carving them into mocking grins and lay them on your porches as so to say; “Fuck us,” who aren’t getting these.