“It is tedious work, you are pretty much a slave”, I muse to the still bewildered child, wondering who I am and what I am supposed to be.
“And this Santa, does he even pay you?”
“Well, he waves it off as saying we are paid in peaks of laughter, so there’s something”
“That’s hor-”
“That is not horrible. Believe me, that is the least horrible thing”
“But you said it yourself, you are pretty much a slave”
“Well, I chose this. It is a labour of love. You get your eyes drowning in their sockets and socks so itchy they keep you from being drowsy. But what he said was real”
“I could understand. But you must really be careful, with that travel blessings of yours”
“Yeah, I was a bit drunk. I called it out as to ‘send me where the children really understand and enjoy the fruits of the labor of their parents’ cause I was getting a little bit frustrated with some of those ungrateful brats, never thought I would be sent to a harvest festival.”
“You should have been more specific”
“I thought serendipity didn’t have this huge a reach. Anyways, everything is an experience”
“Hopefully you won’t face those ungrateful brats again”
“I think Christmas as a whole belongs to the ungrateful perhaps. Goodness often begins, from undeserved love”
So this is heaven. Amidst the jousting and arm-wrestling braggadocio warriors, I fail to understand what it is I did, that merited me a place amongst them.
Perhaps, we exist in some sort of dreamy nether world, where every conscious that aided the furthering of the faith were allowed in. But why was I included?
Was I too harsh in advocating for my belief or rather the absence of one that I drived then away from common sense?
First of all, who has the gall to even construct this world? This pure sacrilege that even their God would spit on? Putting murderers and genocidal maniacs into a state of ecstasy they shouldn’t deserve?
What am I talking about? “Deserve”? I suppose this has to be taken as it is. It is not wrong, I think, that they get to enjoy what they wanted for so long. I would have really preferred it, infact, the whole world would have preferred if they kept their belief to themselves.
Sadly, my critiques are to my detriment as I am guilty of the same. No one belief is right, is the only right belief, I reckon
The realm of zealots’ ends, my final resting place it seems to be.