Well, it’s a brand new year. Shiny, hot off the grill. Just out of the wrapping. I spent the last hours of last year and the first hours of this new one with some of my best chums. We listened to music, ate snacks, played mindless video games; named off tons of literary, artistic, and political figures in a guessing game of our own invention, and laughed ridiculously at one another and with one another. We greeted the New Year with fireworks, sparkling cider, and immense glee.
Every January 1, I always reminisce on past years. I think about the good times I’ve had and all the great people I’ve met. And I look forward to the next twelve months, swallowed by my intrigue as to what splendor those months will contain. It feels good to start the new year writing. I find myself not more and more comfortable when writing, but less and less comfortable when not writing. And I only feel that’s a good thing.
I certainly have goals for this next year. Things I truly hope (Or tentatively plan) to complete or begin. I don’t really find myself all that impressed by the whole tacky ‘resolutions’ bit, so I won’t be pathetically attempting to keep to some strict or rigid list of alterations in my daily habit. I do think it’s a noble thing to be constantly striving to better one’s self though, so I’ll be doing my best to grow in my strengths and conquer my weaknesses.
I look forward to the new year and am excited to see what it brings.