The Part Where We Stroll Into the New Year

The way I see it, the last few minutes of New Year’s Eve is like two ends of a bridge that are about to join together. In one side is the young, naïve, sprightly guy ready to run into the unknown future - while the other side is the dishevelled, unshaved, lethargic guy who walked as though the world weighted upon him. When the bridge connects, they’d shake hands, bid each other farewell and go on with their ways.

This happens every year. The naïve guy would always run ahead, taking the falls and the obstacles whichever they came first. The tired man would walk and sigh and wonder how it was that he never took time to look around. They’d reach the same end of the bridge every year. How they do so is like those time-paradoxical things that are best left unexplained.

There is a lesson here somewhere, but I’m too confused trying to figure out how this continuum thing works.

***

I should probably try writing about things in retrospect, and I think I’ve been trying to do it for every year to no avail. If the New Year’s is like the connecting bridge, then my guys would be sitting around chatting about Marshmallows while playing cards, and when the bridge split again they’d look at each other with shocked expressions. One might even try to jump. He never makes it.

So the year that was is, once again, a blur. Maybe pre-New Year brains are just that mushy. Maybe I’m simply too lazy to try and reminisce a year where things barely happened. Truthfully, nothing happened. I had gone through another year by staring dead into space and drooling. Time simply rolled on, carefully avoiding tipping me over. And when they did, I just drooled into the ground.

There, it was dark and comfortable and I dreamt of Nice Things.

***

Alright, maybe I can try and remember the past year.

(And I’ll be doing so by going through my 2010 blog entries, just to help my mushed up brain).

I remember doing a lot of flying. Much more than one could ever dream of, even if flying weren’t their cup of tea. But I had flown. I had gone to Bali, and Bangkok, and Jakarta, and a few times to Singapore. And then, of course, there was Japan. I have a lot to love about my job, and the constant flying was one of them.

I remember my great grandma’ passing. I remember the funeral, and my last look upon her face. I remember not crying. I still hadn’t.

I remember the day it dawned upon me that I had been in my job for a full year. It was an exciting thought, and there was this pathetic bloom of pride. Somehow, I hadn’t managed to get myself fired. Somehow, that meant a lot to me.

I remember little of everything else. There was a farewell I couldn’t make, a promise I couldn’t keep. Watching as the world played out like a theatre. It’s a story about me, but I’m just the audience. And I had fallen asleep on the fast-forward button.

The lights are on now, and the people are moving about discarding popcorn boxes.

***

There is something that I don’t need to try and remember, however. That’s because it’s happening right now.

And it’s a dream. There’s no other way to put it. I’ve tried pinching myself a few hundred times, and at one point put my foot out on a passing trolley at the supermarket, but I’m still here. Still in this dream. This surreality. This believing that it’s all real, however unreal. This wonderful feeling.

This feeling in the stars, in the clouds. There is no air, but only Life that you breathe.

And I’m still here, in spite of everything. I’m Still Here.

And I like it here.

A lot.

***

Resolutions? Just one.

The good thing about this resolution is that, if I kept at it, and I will, it opens up to a hundred more resolutions to fulfil. So I’ve got my sleeves rolled, and knuckles cracked. I’ve even put on my running shoes.

It starts next year.

***

Here’s the bit where I wish everyone a Happy New Year.

And I wish that you find Happiness. That’s just about it. Happiness, I figure, is direly underrated. You don’t pay the bills with Happiness, but Happiness pays you Love, and Laughter, and Joy, and that thing that keeps the road ahead lit even when it’s dark.

It would really then be a Happy New Year, right? Right?

Right? Guys? Guys??