Secret Santa : and a christmess Christmas carol

Secret Santa. 


Sometimes I wish Santa was secret,

that no-one knew his or her name...


more secret than the CIA



Egalitarian Indigenous Culture - good people, shared parenting.


so secret that no one knew of him, or her.


Or it. 


It is a thing. A concept. Santa was always dead. Santa is a zombie.


I wish....


that millions and millions of microplastic tyred miles and tons and gigatons of plastic toys and wrapping would simply vanish.


They won't. 


The plastic just gets smaller and smaller and smaller until we are drinking it without seeing it, we are peeing it.


A bit like Christmess shopping  - we do not see the poison, for it is covered in glitter.

We pay for that!?


The roads are still clogged with plastic shedding carbon dioxide exhausting metal boxes moving flesh and merchandise, for more shopping..


Patterns.


Faith in the myth appears to be sapping, replaced by open lies.


Mental emotional wrapping, a clingy film of cultural appropriations toxic mimicry.


Do it!


Unwrap yourself.


Do it now!


Feel the relief!


Imagine plastic

created to miraculously bio-degrade, by clear thinking..


designed to be

re-up


-taken,


(sorry Liam Neeson and Luc Besson!)


"we will find you and we will re-use you!"


thus, cycling nurture into a myriad web of living, caring for 

the world that we make safe for all its children, for all our children, for all of their lives.


Will we unshrinkwrap our Earth?


I wish.


Wish is one thing, what we do another -

Some things are assuredly worth the bother.


Christmas?


I can't be bothered. 


I think I am immune.


Though not immune to the pollution, not immune to the poisoning of the habitat, and, happily, I am also not immune to the love of chocolate. And mince pies. And family and community. Sharing time, feasting together, chillaxing in love.


Christmas without the pollution might be a worthy solution, the best gift we can give Is always love, because love guides action in ways that maintains a life of dignity.

From the cradle to the cradle.


this song, my Christmas wish, humbly.




Kindest regards

Corneilius

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