Dear readers, bloggers, and the like,
Santa Claus is not a myth. There’s a Santa Claus in all of us, and this year, Santa brought me something I wanted for a long time. Trenton is the greatest gift I could get. I truly believe people should realize how special he is. When we first met on Twitter, we were really hitting it off pretty well. But we learned a lot together, and that’s how I wanted it. Now, I’m watching Are You Afraid of the Dark, an old Nickolodeon show my brothers would not watch because they were chickened as heck.
Thank you for the gift of Trenton. I only have one wish this year: give my family a bag of rocks and some ashes in their stocking for being manipulative and stupid with me. Don’t let my family visit my website, which has been hand coded with this blog in it. And show them that Christmas should not be about material things, and that I should be the priority. They should not have spent all their money on Italian goods and services, taxes to Italy, etc., they should truly have been at my CCB graduation. Show them what it is not to really understand the true meaning of Christmas. And it’s Christmas, not Xmas. Although JFW thought X meant Christ, which is weird. Thank you for taking the time to read my letter, and understand that my family has lost it when it comes to the magic and mystery of Christmas. You know we’re all God’s children, but don’t forget me. I’ve been good this year, barring none, and my illness, an illness of the mind you would probably never be able to name because the elves wouldn’t get it, it does not exactly allow other people to think highly of me. So for Christmas, I want to be free of it, free of my family, free to be myself in a world where I have to pretend to be sighted and normal just to survive. And one more thing, I want a working microwave in my apartment so I can heat up your favorite sausages or bacon, more like Tennessee Pride sausages. And I want to have warm brownies ready for you this Christmas Eve.