Dear Santa Baby,
Hey, how’s it going? Busy time for you, I realize, so I’ll keep this short.
To be honest, I have my doubts about your ability to deliver what I really want for Christmas. I’m not even sure that it falls into your area of expertise, which, as I understand it, is toys and trinkets for children and adults. But I figure what the hey, it can’t hurt to ask, right?
So here’s the deal. No presents wrapped under the tree. No Secret Santa surprises, no mistletoe, no romance tied with shiny ribbon. I’ll forgo the cookies, the eggnog, the chocolate bonbons, the whole freakin’ holiday enchilada.
All I want is peace. And I’m not talking the “Silent Night” variety. I’m not referring to any sort of Christmas miracle where everyone lays down their weapons and their resentment and their territorial blood feuds for an hour or two before reloading.
I mean the honest to God, bone-deep peace that passes understanding and goes straight to universal forgiveness and tolerance for every stupid self-centered human on the planet, myself included.
I haven’t been the best person I can be. You know that. I know that. But I’m making an effort to do better. And I sincerely believe that with your help, Santa, maybe, just maybe, we could at least cut down on the number of massacres of innocent women and children. That’s not asking too much, is it?
So. That’s all for me.
Thanks for trying to make the world a happy place for one day of the year. And good luck with that!
Cheers,
Diehard Peace Freak