2010
It is finally the new year. I rung it in with people I love more than anything and now I sit on a secondhand pink recliner, congested in an overheated room, and I pause to reflect on the muddle of events that was 2009.
The year started on a crowded dancefloor at a wedding, surrounded by horny guests in formal attire. The only face not eaten was mine. Passed out in an oversized tan coat on the couch of a friend I do not see often enough.
I finished upgrading science courses and quit an awful job as a server at a retirement home. I spoke at the funeral of my best friend. I tried acid for the first time; also, camping. I wasted way too much time on a yellow- sweatered boy as well as a blue-sweatered one. I moved back to Vancouver island. I lived with strangers and became friends with the most unlikely boy from high school. I got closer and I drifted further away. I sent letters. I fell deeper in love with music and classic films. I spent far too much time worrying about things (and people) that do not matter. I felt proud and ashamed, devastated and fulfilled. I did not sufficiently mourn the passing of my mother’s boyfriend. I thought too much and read too little and spent a lot of time lying down.
I’m trying not to have lofty ambitions for the coming year. I want to stop apologizing for who I am. I want to love myself. I want to make my memoirs worth reading. I want to read more great books, see more places and spend more time listening to Joy Division. I want to do more psychedelics and introduce myself to more people and spend time thinking about things that deserve to be thought about. I am going to make this year count somehow.
