Untitled Twenty-Four

Fair warning:  I've put this where it's least likely to be seen.  
I need to say it, but you don't need to read it.

Sometime in the last few weeks, two of my favorite friends and I wound up sitting together in the shop kitchen, each of us Decked Out in total festive absurdity.


FF1:  I hate Christmas.  I don't know why, but every single year, I'm just more depressed than the one before.

FF2:  I know exactly what you mean.  It's like you put your chin down and just pray your way through it.

ME:  I know exactly.


Remember that very-nearly-the-end Matrix scene where Smith finally catches Neo unprepared, and inflicts not only the mortal wound, but just keeps firing and firing, and Trinity can only watch as Neo finally relinquishes?  

That's what this last year has felt like.  
Or the last couple of years.  
Or the last whatever.

I've heard more than one person say that they just don't understand how anybody could feel this way or cope that way.  I've encountered people who either can't or won't believe that it's possible for somebody to look normal ~ festive, even ~ and still be ...  not.

So if you do happen to be reading this, 
and if you do happen to know exactly, then,
chin down, 
prayers up, 
and remember:  
Neo does make a comeback.