i make everything fraught. why? because it feels fraught. what? everything. christmas, but that's just when it gets intensified and pressurized. i want to crawl in a hole. the same feeling i had when i had to go to my dad's. by decree, by divorce. he left and we had to leave mom to accomodate the law. the low, i pronounce it. but that's ancient history. and there's plenty of things to be fraught over now. the thing is history changes you, and it's not easy to change that. the physics say there are 11 layers of reality but we can only perceive 3. and there may be alternate histories, and if there are alternate histories there must be alternate presents. under the tree? but if there are alternates wouldn't they be infinite? each to their own infinity? so in effect there is no shared reality? but we are small manifold beings. we need reality. we still need it. what we suspect once existed because everything is possible and must have been and we miss it. we have to posit one now. not the lies we are told. that doesn't make a livable reality. that makes a perilous existence. we have to stop now and live a simple life. how? 
today i have to say we are ducking out of christmas, and it's the same goddamned feeling again. i walk around in a daze, bumping into objects, with hurt feelings, saying i'm sorry.