Happy New Year
I wish I could say that I had big plans for this site for the new year, but that would be untrue. My world is mostly the same old confusion, or rather same me, different confusion. Now it is an online computer science class and trying to manage my finances with the help of a program called Gnu Cash. A big ole nor’easter is bearing down on us over the next 48 hours and that brings with it challenges unique to New England. My immediate reaction is to be upset at the inconvenience this will impose on me, but then (and this is a skill I must practice until it is natural, like muscle memory) I am grateful that I have this miserable house to call home instead of the refugee sanctuary of the homeless shelter where I spent the two previous winters.
“Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It’s awful.”
I have never been a fan of making new year’s resolutions. The reasons are varied, but ultimately can be traced back to that unnamable specter which h has haunted my existence since before I was born. Last year at this time I was still very much like a newborn learning how to walk and talk all over again. With a whole long sober year under my belt I am inclined to look forward and not back. Standing on the events of the past year without judging things as successes or failures I kind of expected the view to be a little better. No bother, a lot of work got done and there is a long way to go, but I know that I can do it.
I actually had a new years post almost finished, but it didn’t ‘feel’ write (the misspelling there was intentional). One of my resolutions is to indulge my artistic, poetic, artistic nature – why am I so afraid of expressing myself? Without further ado:
- Let poetry happen when I am writing and don’t blot it out or obscure it and especially don’t discount anything I write – who knows how many trash cans, both real and the Windows variety, I have filled with useful words?
- I will try my hand again at the play that has been lurking behind my consciousness since the first time I went to rehab back in ’15. It’s basically just a dialogue between me and myself; add a little Samuel Beckett, Moliere and buckets of Vonnegut and you can see the problems I face.
- I am going to apply to Harvard University. Why the hell not? What’s the absolute worst that can happen? They’ll probably tell me to piss off, but since they have no hold over me, then it costs me nothing. Maybe they’re actually looking for a maladjusted, too-smart-for-his-own-good, ex-alcoholic who just wants to teach math and physics.
- My other resolutions are more sublime. Such as not becoming so disgusted with people that I really don’t expect much from to begin with. The problem is that I am bleeding heart deep down and really believe that there is genius and beauty inside everyone. No, the problem is that they keep disappointing me. This whole scene is an internal conflict that I just need to nip once and for all.
- It is important that I nurture some of the seeds that were planted last year. I tried a lot of new things and some showed promise of bearing fruit. I must learn by example to cultivate the good and to let the bad wither and die.
- That’s enough goal setting fo one evening. The path that I travel is anything but straight and things that I hold dear today will be cast aside and other undreamed of things will take their places. So, I resolve to let the cycle of life do its thing, let the wheels turn, and I don’t need to be some stoic or some martyr about everything. I will stop taking myself so goddamn seriously.
I am not an oracle or prognosticator (I know much better terms than these, but they escape just now). I have no ability to see farther ahead than tomorrow morning at best. I can make some general plans and suggest certain courses, but it’s really a crapshoot. My best guess is that I will carry on at this house until I am either forced out or move to college. I will continue to run with Back on My Feet as long I am able to and the softball team will be at the same time both an unmitigated disaster and a wild success. Through it all I resolve to remain my anachronistic self.
“Sur quelque préférence une estime se fonde,
Et c’est n’estimer rien qu’estimer tout le monde.”
Funny. I just realized while I was selecting categories and tags for my post as I usually do right before I finally hit Publish and I realized there is no category for hope or future, no tags either. My therapist would have a field day with that!