Hello everyone! You may be wondering where the posts were for the past two days, and how my absence of leave will affect the posting schedule from now until the 25th.
While I would still technically classify this as day 17’s post, in order to play catch up you can expect two posts today, and two posts tomorrow. Wednesday will be back to smooth sailing, and I apologize for the two-day drought here.
Anyways, as I said on Friday, it is time to move back to storytelling. While Snow and a Toboggan was a more bittersweet tale, this one may be a bit different. It will relate more to Christmas, but maybe not the aspect of it that you expect. There are still toys and trinkets, but I will leave you at that.
Time has its wheels, and they are not stopping.
December is a blighted celebration of all wrong with the world. They put down their arms, voices, and differences all for me. Something that has collected dust on a shelf for eleven months, only to be picked up by those both poor in belonging and poor in heart.
I have heard the tales of the red jolly man. His merry cheer is one I have never heard and one I will never hear. He delivers my kind to every child in this world, but how does he do it in one night? Are there children in the stars waiting, only for him not to come? I wonder what his elves build in his mechanical fortress in the dead north. I was created by simple men only waiting for profit, sent overseas for other men who controlled them. If only the children knew that.
The storekeeper is a depressed fellow. From what I’ve heard of the red man, they are polar opposites. He puts on a mask with cheerful intention, but I know it isn’t true. The rainbow of lights down each aisle that wash nicely with the mahogany brown of each shelf, and that tree of his. When the lights turn off, I suppose he becomes more relatable. He lives in the store, and cries in the store. I am almost sure he will die in this store, unlike me.
I have heard the stories of how deadly man is. They wrap us in total darkness for what feels like an eternity, and only for their twisted pleasure. They give us to others, whether it be psychopaths, murderers, or children. I have heard terrible things about children. They are like animals, tearing through every ripple of our skin until we are broken and thrown away into the depths of hell. They have the audacity to replace us and waste their treasured coin on such a useless cycle.
I have heard that us toys are not the only victims of such torture. Everything is, and humans are creative. They can subject each other in morbid curiosity, and I find their uncontrollable behaviour disgusting. It is only this time of year that they do so, and they return to their normal state after December is over. It will happen as long as time never stops, and for now, I remain on this shelf of toxic dreams of a superior kind.
They can feel like I can, but they can act as well. Why do they not cherish the idea of being human, instead of dividing themselves into cults and teams? I can foresee my future, but I do know that I only exist in mind and I will never be able to defend myself. They die from age, but I am almost certain to be killed. Consumerism is their biggest weakness and my greatest threat.
I do not wish to die, but I have no choice. The store shelf is the same shade of brown, and the cries of the storekeeper no longer fill me with unbroken sympathy. I have become unfeeling, but my desire to live is like a primal instinct that pierces through my fabric skull. Maybe I will not end up as a gift, but as a stone on the wet pavement. I will lie there forever until something tears me into pieces. It is unfair that they have the ability of movement, and I am condemned to this void of lost dreams.
If luck exists, maybe I can find them.
If the red man exists, maybe he will find them.
Maybe… Maybe I should go to sleep, perchance to dream.
I hope that was not too depressing, and yes, that was the plan for Saturday’s post. Sunday’s was supposed to be retrospect, so expect that to be coming later tonight. It may be a long one, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Also, you may be wondering about that guest post that faded into obscurity and never formed. The guest felt as if they did not have any great ideas, which is understandable. If he comes with an idea, though, I will let him post it whenever he chooses to, so consider it on indefinite hold for the time being.
Anyways, enjoy this last stretch until the holidays! 🙂