This is the week humans beings reserve for resolutions and self-reflection, interspersed with copious alcohol consumption and quiet realisations that it never really meant anything and that really, there’s no point to this vast and cold universe that we- wait, what? No sorry, I’ve been told that last part’s just me.
In retrospect, this wasn’t a terrible year. What it was, was a year of quitting an amazing job to live in a garden shack in pretty New Zealand for 3 months (and it was glorious). It was a year of finally seeing the Misty Mountains, a year when all the songs on my indie playlists made sense. A year of sleeping on airport chairs and dragging around that heavy purple suitcase. It was year of kimchi-eating and getting constantly lost in translation.
So no, not terrible, but here, at the end of all things, I find myself so utterly exhausted. So, while everyone’s preparing for 2014, I’m just exhaling and congratulating myself on surviving this far.
Lewis Carroll said, “There are far better things ahead than any we leave behind.” I like this quote. Schmoop once implied that I was stupidly optimistic for liking it, which is true I guess, because we have no idea if what lies ahead is going to be better. But hope is comforting and in my experience, the best kind of self-preservation against the sometimes scary, sometimes sublime, but always unpredictable world.
So here’s to another 365 days of stuff and things, places and people.