At Leakycon we don’t say “I love you” we say “WE’RE WIZARDS WE’LL PARTY FOREVER TURN AROUND BRIGHT EYES HARRY I’M COMING HOME I...
I have a request
related to a post I just saw about cashiers asking “Did you get everything you need today” or somesuch
my request is this: when...
I always feel a little bit weird about celebrating Thanksgiving,
The day when the pilgrims and Indians became friends,
Only for the first to betray the latter.
It reminds me of throwing a party on the birthday of Benedict Arnold,
Or celebrating the day Magneto turned against Professor X.
Plus, I don’t eat turkey, so there are no turkey endorphins to make me feel better about it.
But, no matter how messed up its roots, Thanksgiving is one of the better holidays.
It’s not filled with trinkets to prove something or obligatory cards or green beers.
It’s about tasty gluttony and seeing the family that you only see a couple of times a year
And maybe doing some introspecting about what matters most in life.
I’m thankful I got to visit home for the first time in three months,
Sleep in my own bed, not write essays, and go to Taco Bell.
I’m glad that I got to run around an empty parking lot with my best friends this week,
And that college has eradicated any trace of writer’s block my body had been holding inside.
But I’m also thankful that my dad didn’t drag us to Thanksgiving mass,
And that I have my headphones to tune out my little brothers.
I’m glad that the goody two-shoes façade has worked for another day,
That there’s no way for them to see the words I think and write down,
Words like atheist and democrat and possibly bisexual.
I’m thankful for the friends and the family,
The food and the Black Friday sales,
And most of all, I’m thankful that I get to live another day in hiding.
The tighter he binds his chest
The sooner people will believe
He’s allowed in the men’s restroom