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.
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