Mojo’s Mind



Marquis Walters

Cookie cutting cooking time, coated in convoluted chaos, this is what I think of Christmas. You may not grasp the alliteration so let me break it down. Back in my days as a kit, I longed for the days when snow skated across the sky and pastries perfumed pungent peppermint. The Pillsbury Christmas Tree Sugar Cookies were most preferred. In full disclosure, I must declare they sponsor me with a lifetime supply. Anyways, moving on, those good ole’ days never seem to be reciprocated. In recent years, students fail to emphasize the Christmas spirit. If they had Christmas cheer, it’s broken, battered, bruised, and banished to who knows where.

Wrapped gifts seem to be all these kids want. The presents they receive have quickly become the epicenter of the entire holiday. Well not for me. I, Mojo, roam the grounds at Lincoln High daily and the days leading up to the breaks are filled with frowning faces covered by the facade of happiness. I know you aren’t truly exuberantly ecstatic that Santa is coming. If you were truly on the Nice List, you would pop out in your best holiday sweaters and represent the man who chose to not bring coal to your house every year. But instead, you wait until you receive your new IPhone 65s and your Jordan 0s till you reveal your real smiles. And before you ask, YES. Of course Mojo believes in Saint Nicholas. The real question is why did you stop?