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The Third Annual Oddball Christmas Story- The Lonely Boy on Christmas by Jason Wright-Editor


There once was a town it seemed that was always cold. Even when it was warm it still was always cold.

The people were mean. The people weren’t green. The people weren’t clean. They all forgot their dreams and no one could sleep.Not even sheep, could make them dream.

They all had forgot their meaning, and what it meant to be free.

They lived their lives as shadows. they lived in poor man castles, some were drunk and staggered, and some were slaves in shackles.

They all had forgotten, what once was their motto,— to live in darkness, you could never cast a shadow, and in the darkness, shadows never follow!

And when the light shines from the sun in the seasons, whether frost bitten hands, or those wearing mittens, the sun always shined on the ones who asked for wisdom

and one did….the lonely boy on christmas.

and this lonely boy just wanted one thing for christmas, a dog or a kitten, wrapped up with a ribbon, a bright blue ribbon. If he had a dog… he could pet him with his mittens and watch him chase pigeons, and play fetch with the children.

But it never happened, no gifts were given to him on this christmas.

or any christmas.

there he sat in the town of castles and shadows, where the cold seemed to sting, everyone and everything.

and he began to reminisce of his families last christmas, the last time he was given a kiss on his head, and that warm feeling he had, and the last words ever said by his dad.

“you must live by yourself we can no longer take care of you”

and he said to them “I’m just a boy…what do you expect me to do?”

but his father and mother, they didn’t love one another, and they didn’t really mean to say what they said, so one day they both got into their cars and left.

But before they left they both kissed him both on the cheek, and said

“I’m sorry son, that we have to leave. Here are the keys this is your very own castle. And never leave, always stay in the shadows. We will always be with you, but we must leave and we hope for your forgiveness

and then they had left the lonely boy on Christmas.


At the same time there was a young widow, who always sat by the window, with a sad glow, waiting for her husband to come home.

He and her, also lived in this world.

The world that was mentioned in part one, a world of no fun, where noone could smile in fear of being stung. because the cold was too cold, and some were too poor to

buy coats, and besides,

the castles were hidden by shadows, and moats protected by ghosts, but still there was hope that her love would come home. and every day she wrote from a journal

that was given to her, from her husband who had disappeared, in the cold of the winter, and made her from married and happy, to a way too young widower.

Her name was Rosaline, and she was only eighteen when she found the man of her dreams. But one day he left to go to the store, and was never seen anymore, and

people had said that he had gone missing, in a cold storm, on a frosty Thanksgiving, and they stopped searching after a few weeks, cause noone could survive out in the

cold on those peaks. But Rosaline, never stopped looking out that window, till one day it started to snow. and then it suddenly stopped. And out from they sky an angel

just dropped.


Before I tell you how the angel dropped, and why the snow stopped, we must go back to the spot where the boy sat patiently, waiting for the day, when his family

would come back, and how all he wanted was that dog for christmas, a little dog wrapped up with a bright blue ribbon, but really

gifts were not on his wish list, just a little slice of happiness, outside of all that darkness

That day the boy decided to leave, he said to himself, I’m going to get a tree, so he left his castle and stepped out of the shadows, and headed to the forest outside of

the meadow, and began a long walk out of the darkness and into an even darker forest. He could have went left, and went towards the shore, he decided to go

north, and ventured forth towards, the forest and the trees, and the bright north star. He knew little of where he was, but it was better then where he would be, and

besides it was Christmas he wanted a tree.

Before he left, he dressed in his warmest clothes, hat and coat, and scarf to protect his nose, and the only possession he had with him, was a backpack of provisions,

and a compass, and a map. And off he went, and took his first step out of the darkness, while in that same town a widower wept.

Part 4

Oh Where did he go, got lost in the snow? She sang to herself, while she sat by the window. Oh where did he go? And when will he return, to give me his love, I so

desperately yearn”

She repeated these lines, like she was hypnotized, the saddest moment in a beautiful life. She was only 23 when he said good-bye and went out into that cold november

winter, and was never seen alive, but keep faith good reader, a good love never dies.

“Oh where did he go? When will he return? why did you leave me, it wasnt your turn.” She sang this song in morning, she sang it still mourning, and that was when she

realized, that her eyes were not blind, and in her heart she believed he was alive.

At the same time she sang by her window in that empty house, the compass was pointing telling the boy to go south.

But the map said that the meadow, was the way to go, but his heart told him to follow the star, and into the dark, he ventured in, to the deep forest, where

the trees lied there in.


Well dear reader, you must be weary of me, so let me tell you how the boy found his tree.

And also a brand new family.

It starts where we left, with the boy’s lonely trek, and ends, well were not quite there yet. So the boy began his climb into that deep forest, while the angels sang to him,

this simple chorus. Follow the star son, follow the star, follow the star son, follow the star. Yes, the boy was lonely and scared, for sure, but in his head and heart he

was strong and secure. People would leave him, for that he was sure, but never his family, that scar was the worst, and his head began to hurt. But before the tears

started to fall, he took a step and all of a sudden he was not by himself, and while he was down and thinking about life, he somehow had wandered onto the thinnest of



Oh reader, Oh me oh my, What did this boy do on that thinnest of ice. He walked oh so carefully, and he could hear the ice creak, and then there was the crack in the

ice he could see. He thought to himself, dang if I wasn’t thinking about all my problems, I might have seen this coming, and i could have done something, instead

of being stuck where I am, and then something happened.

The ice cracked, and splintered

and cracked, and splintered and cracked,

and the ice fell underneath his feet, and the boy was suddenly over his head, and while under the coldest degrees, he began to see,

Christmas wasn’t about getting presents or trees….it was about being happy. He was under the water gasping for air, trying desperately to be freed from a horrible death indeed,

then at this moment

a hand reached out to him. And now enters the man, Jim, the widowers husband.


Hey Kid!! Hey Kid!! Can you hear me? Grab my hand! Hey Kid!! Hey Kid!! Can you hear me, grab my arm, I’ll pull you in. That was the voice of the widowers husband.

All the boy could hear was a muffled sound, but saw the arm, and tried desperately to get out. He grabbed the strange hand that had come from above, and Jim pulled

him out with the strongest of tugs. Jim pulled the boy off of the ice, and made sure that he was alright. Can you hear me kid?! Can you hear me?!

But the boy was barely breathing, cold and shivering. What could be done to save the lonely boy on Christmas?

Jim started a fire with some sticks around him, and hoped and prayed that something could heal him. But as the fire grew stronger, soon the boy breathed in, and looked into the eyes of the man that saved him.

And at this very moment, the widower was sleeping, and dreaming what seemed to be the same thing. It was about a boy who fell on a dark night of the thinnest of ice,

and her husband was surely alive, and saved this boy’s life.


The widower hadn’t left her house since her husband had disappeared, but she had to leave, her heart was telling her so, that she had to go, out of the darkness and

back into that snow. And as she left, she took a deep breath, and that was when she realized for the first time her self, that the darkness she lived in, this town, of castles

and shadows, there were more places to see, like the place in her dream. She visioned a stream, lit up by a bright star, and there she ventured out into the dark.

And there she sang.. My heart tells me to follow my dreams, and I will sing this song until he hears me. So she began singing. My heart tells me to follow my dreams,

andI will sing till my angel hears me. And just like that, the star lit up the whole place,

and though they were far apart, she could see his face. By the place in her dream, right by the stream, where she would find her Jim, and where she found…

Part 9

Yes I was the lonely boy on Christmas, but now that I have grown, I am no longer alone. My family, Rosaline and my father Jim, we live outside of the darkness, where the shadows live. And though you must find your own way, and sometimes follow that dream, to get the biggest tree, or play station three, all you really want is a good family, and maybe a dog. Like the dog that I have. But really in the end a mom and a dad, and people that love you. And believing that the right star will shine above you.

So there you have it.

Merry Christmas to all of you, and all of yours. May love and light unlock all your doors.

Merry Christmas

from Jason


Follow the Star
Image by Q, A, O, P, Space via Flickr


Jason Wright is the founder and Editor of Oddball Magazine. His “Jagged Thoughts” column appears weekly.

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Re: Introduction by Jason Wright


In case you haven’t seen me lately, I would like to reintroduce myself. My name is Jason Wright and I am the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine.   I just want to RE: introduce myself.

I write prose and poetry,

most of you don’t know me

or see through me completely

but thats O.K.

cause the world that I see

doesn’t even breathe freely.

I write mostly on trains, trying to retrain my brain

to restrain my eyes, from being strained.

Falling asleep quick

to the sound of the music

that keeps in my head,

and in my headphones.

I might be all alone, on this journey

from poetry,

to University

but I know, I’ll make it.

Trying to reengage my love of rhyme

and free expression.

After the world asks you “yes”?

you say “No” to their questions.

I write because I can

its my only outlet,

and theres so much we haven’t spoke

about yet.

But this world I live in is not so different then yours

so I am opening the doors,

to poets and more.

I am going to keep up

the only way I know how.

A business suit, never meant too much

to me,

just liked writing rhymes in libraries.

Putting up poets

just like me,

who write with the same fire,

same intensity.

College graduate…

to a job in telephone?

Come on man,

thats not me.

So here I am

I am back and going to keep to it.

A different poet

Each week.

Hold me to it.

And if you don’t see me regularly

then let me know.

And I’ll be back with more.

And more.

And more.

One life to live y’all.

Stop staring at the walls.

Just another Jagged Thought

Thanks for your continuing readership.


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A radio song gone on too long

In the clutches of greatness
Was a man who wanted to be famous
He sat there waiting so long
He could have been a waitress or a doctor
Cause man, did he have patience

He knew what he wanted to do
And people even invited him on
To shows or even showed him the printing press
Basically gave him the green light
But this dude could do nothing
cause he
Couldn’t trust the press
Or himself
Or the words that fell from his head
Directing the pen
Into obvious oblivian

This man was a mess
With a three on his chest
And a burden so heavy he could not lift it
Dude was cursed or gifted and
Couldn’t quite see it
His dad was
Over religious
And talked so much
About heaven and stuff
And basically fucked up the kids head enough
That he started doing drugs
Waiting for God to come
And when he finally did
He cured him for about a minute
Then gave the kid
Serious mental illness

And sent him to wander through consciousness
And left him to learn about the life he wanted to live
And all it did was complicate him

To the point that he could not live
And when he fell down
He always got up again

A poverty stricken poet
A psyche ward celebrity
A ghost in the forest

Writing poems
That he never meant to write
A truth he never wanted to realize

A mistake in the machine
a sullen starlit sky
Just a rock that keeps rolling
A radio song gone on too long

A over stretched welcome
And a letter never meant to be sent.

Letting the ink drip all over his set list.

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Suburban Sky by Jason Wright

I tried to sing about you
But my guitar wouldn’t let me
Instead it wept softly and gently
I wanted to sing about how to me you’re like family
Where when no one could stand it
You understood Mel

I wanted to sing about the years before manic episodes when membranes and synapses fought for control
Before devils and angels played backgammon for souls
and I would watch as trees moved there halos, and branches extended
To pick us up out of a lineup of friends and foes offended
But back when the suburban sky let us know when we got too high, and one more look into the drunken sky would blind our eyes for certain
I try to remember you
As if you were a person.

Not the remnants of descendants songs

Not the blue dye, and safety pins

Not the sweeping sound of indifference
That now rests inside my head

I look back and I fall flat
Can’t look back
Can’t rewind the past
There’s two sides on this 45
And the record might skip but never seems to last

Cause you made me a b-side
To your love sick sing along

And I might have forgotten the words
To every social distortion song
But if this is the story of my life

Something went wrong
Which life tends to do

When you have stayed too long.

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(judge) me

Wasn’t happy with that effort
Knew with a little more effort
That I could do better
now I look on the train
Wait now I remember
I don’t do this for popularity
Or medals, i do it because i want to make sense of my mind and to one day feel better
Listening to the Eels, electric shock blues
I feel a little bit like dying and a little bit like dancing
A little bit like Danzig, definitely misfitting in this place, a celluloid hero in the building, trying to preserve the village green while society plays a
Trick on me
Thinking I’m Ray Davies
And a little bit Morissey
I mean Morrison, I’m all man lady
If I was anywhere else
I just would be me