I didn’t really do it, did I?
I started it, I really believed I would stick to it, then I discarded it, like empty fireworks cannisters on January 1st, at about 1:17 a.m. I had every intention, they were all good, they were all looking forward and seeing a bright and sparkly future, where I stuck to things and ticked off small goals, and set specific, measurable, achievable other goals, and treated myself kindly, and rah rah rah, aren’t I the greatest and most sensible of them all.
I didn’t really do it. It was all a bit too much.
I slid back into habits. I drank too much, ate too much, worried about life and work and study. I left my home for a bit and was a tad nomadic and made new friends and drank some more. I sang songs in the middle of the night with people I will never see again and I laughed and lavished myself with self loathing in the morning. And the next evening I met even more new people and sang more new songs and drank champagne until the morning reminded me that I could do with doing a little better for myself. I ventured far and wide and remained stuck where I was.
I fell off my bike.
Hello gentle folk out there in the ether. Where are you? What are you doing? What do you think about in the quiet night?
It is nice to see you again.
Phrenocat sheds 