Photo with 23 notes
Bringing in the new year was somewhat interesting for once (read: I wasn’t moping around about my eternal singledomness for once, as idiots and fools are wont to do). We’re back home, my sister’s knocked out and might punch me in the arm or something in the morning for taking this picture (I loooove you Camille).
Nonetheless, when I got back, I got into the habit of counting the little “firsts”, e.g. first song on my iPod I listen to this year on the way home, first time I sat in the back of the van this year, first time I’ll be sleeping in my bed this year, and so on. One new one was that I was feeling optimistic for once. Dunno if it’ll stick through, but in a few ways I’m starting to feel better about myself.
I really can’t say anything of what resolutions I’ve got for the next year, since the fun and odd things that happened and the stupid things I’ve done are moments I wouldn’t have expected. Per the occasional bit of wisdom my dad drops, most plans a person make tend to not fall through. Most obvious thing is to improve myself as a person, but to have that as a resolution is just silly. As humans, it’s a basic goal. Social beings that we are, we’re exposing ourselves to change, so of course, by not so much conscious effort, we’ll inevitably be different by the next year - non sum qualis eram, or “I am not as I once was” comes to mind…if anything, I guess I could read some more, and watch more films, just eating my cultural veggies. Maybe I’ll learn about the stars this year too. Sounds nice.
Only thing I know to do is to welcome the future with a pair of open arms and a pair of brass balls to take it on.
