new year's resolutions are such a commitment.
it feels like every year i give up too soon cumulates in the underlying sense of apathy that threatens to break through the temporary vigor that comes with a facade of a fresh start. "this year, i'll change." how many times in my life have i thought that? not just on january first, either-- how many times has it been a day, a week, a month later, when i catch myself rotting in my room, staring at the ceiling, with yet another unfinished project lying forgotten between the slats of my bed? dust patterned into greyish carpet, i peek through the cracks of my comfortor at the clothes on floor and think "starting now. the years before didn't count."
i could attribute this to so many things, each falling into the previous. everything causes something, or so it seems, because it feels like my inability to follow through on any of my resolutions is a result of every little thing that i've ever done in my entire life. but i suppose the greatest reason is my denial in the since that there isn't some magical thing about the new year that will make my resolution come true. a resolution means that i have to work for my goals, like every other common person.
something about new years has always given me the impression that what i wish for on december 31st will magically come true come morning so long as i wish hard enough. so if i squeeze my eyes shut and will tears into the corner of my eyes maybe whichever old man is watching me from the heavens above will pity my state enough to make my dreams come true.
and when i wake up, inevitably, and nothing has changed, do i have a right to feel disappointed? or maybe the only rights i have are in dragging myself out of bed and starting another mundanely guilt filled day. if only i'd spent the last day working on myself rather than wishing i was working on myself. if only, if only, but i still haven't learned.
so i don't have a resolution, if you're asking. i haven't even thought about it. give me a day, or two, or maybe a week, and i'll get back to you on that. if anything, the only way a resolution has any meaning is if the resolve exists, and at the moment, it doesn't.
christmas has always been my favorite time of year--all the holiday cheer, the jolly spirit in the air... i admit, i'm exaggerating. but, all jokes aside, seeing the lights glowing in the dark evenings when driving back from yet another late practice, stepping into a warm house from the frigid outside air, and sipping hot ginger tea as i'm doing my homework makes me happy to be alive.
i could never relate to seasonal depression, at least, not for the wintertime. is summer depression a thing? because i would have that.
given my love for winter, the holiday season feels like a love letter to that. jingle-bell saturated songs playing 24/7 from the radio, odes to the very things i adore about winter: the creeping expectations of snow, of thanksgiving (not the holiday, though i love that too), of time with friends and family--i love it all.
this year, though, felt different.
to be honest, christmas really crept up on me this year. it seemed like school started, i blinked, and all of a sudden the first semester of my junior year was almost over, and oh wow! winter break. i barely had time to prepare presents for all my family members. junior year had really been taking its toll on me, what with the everpresent tests and the foreboding future of college applications breathing down my neck since september. so all that lead up to christmas might have happened, but i missed it in my depression nap of doing, well, everything and nothing at all at the same time. on christmas eve, i hauled the old plastic tree my parents had bought at costco all those years ago out of the garage and decorated it with my brother, running my fingers along the lines of all the ornaments, memories from too long ago. we didn't have any christmas lights this year, but the house on the corner more than made up for our lacking.
christmas day was nice. my parents forgot to get me a present this year, so they settled for a box of chocolates that will inevitably sit in the back of the pantry for the next year and a half. i bought myself and my brother minecraft with money that i had earned watching him and the house while my parents attended a concert. i can only hope i'll have time to play with him between all the rushing about for my educational future. we invited a few old family friends over for dinner and i stuffed myself with hot pot until i could hardly breathe.
i went to bed early that night, saying my goodbyes before our friends had even left, stumbling up the stairs, feeling like i was about to puke everywhere. i didn't shower, just climbed into bed, curled up in my sheets, and thought about how i should probably do some laundry tomorrow. everything felt a little lacking; everything felt a little hollow. i hadn't woken up excited like i always had, skipped steps down the stairs to check on the presents under the tree, stuck my hand in my stockings to feel around for trinkets. no, i'd woken up an hour later than usual, sat on my bed in the dark, curtains still drawn, and tried to ignore the mess of papers and clothes on the ground. and the rest of the day, too, i had just floated around, like some sort of ghost, preoccupied not with the past, but with all those things i had set off for tomorrow.
it feels as though i am writing about nothing. am i just getting older? is this just a reflection of my own maturing mentality?
maybe i thought i could retain that sense of happiness and naivety for a little longer. maybe i hoped that for the rest of my life, i could continue to set aside a day of celebration for nothing at all, like my younger brother who'd raced around, joyous, waving his new kirby game around and around and around. or this is just because i'd set aside my worries for too long, and now that it's the end of the year, and i have to do all this shit, i can't enjoy anything anymore, too caught up with how i'm literally drowning in all my responsibilities.
the doom and gloom from christmas day, made worse by my realization of it, has carried through to now, enough that i am sitting here writing about it. is this regret or dread?
next year, santa better save me. next year, i can believe that things will be better.
happy black friday everyone!
i'm seventeen now-- i have to go around and update all my bios. it's a crazy thought... one more year, and i'll be an adult
to be honest, as i do every year, i hoped that i would wake up one year older (officially) and somehow be able to get my shit together. obviously, that didn't happen, and i spent my entire birthday and the day after rotting in bed. today... well, i said that today would change and i'm not rotting anymore, but i'm not doing much better either.
anyway, here's a belated celebration-- to another year of life! hopefully, this year is the year it all changes... thinking of starting a digital diary to keep myself accountable. we'll see.
damp and dark seattle weather has me feeling like it's constantly dusk. the sun has been setting all day-- it never rose.
contrary to popular opinion, i'm a big fan of this gloomy atmosphere. i feel tired all the time anyway, might as well have an excuse for it. now i can go around saying i feel tired because of the dark sky, the cold, etc. now i am complaining for a reason.
complaining is the topic of today's reflection (my first one, but whatever) because i feel the need to complain about how often i complain. i am a serial complainer-- whenever there is a lull in the conversation, where the average person would redirect to a more worthwhile topic, i complain. sometimes, i don't even feel strongly about the things i am complaining about. when i complain about the rain, trust that i do not truly feel that way, i just need to blame something for the exhaustion i am feeling.
about three months ago, i decided i would make an active effort to stop complaining, and then i forgot about that effort immediately until this morning, when i found myself complaining about the same thing for the third time to the same group of people.
it dawned on me then how little they care about this trivial thing that i cannot seem to stop myself from sharing with them. what would i gain from sharing this minor inconvenience with a group of friends who couldn't care less, other than a few pitying looks before we move on to bigger, better things? i, personally, never know what to say when someone else begins to complain-- how can i expect better from others when i start to do the same?
anyways. a new year's resolution, a few months early: stop complaining.
the weather is great.
this page is dedicated to some pretty deep freaking reflections (not really.)
actually, most of the things written here are completely disjointed rants. but because the content isn't exactly superficial enough for me to put it in the rant category, i've tossed them here instead. and "reflections" sounds so much more whimsical-- fitting of whatever i end up categorizing here.
enjoy my pseudo-intellectual musings.
01/01/2025 - 7:32