Insert cliché New Years title here
My mouth tastes sour. Liquor courses through me as I weave through herds of people all trying to be rid of their grief and afflictions with the simple release of a paper lantern. The cynic inside me thinks it’s not that easy, and my mind wanders to the trash these lanterns will become as soon as the burning light inside of them comes to a flickering end. The optimist in me, though much smaller and less heard than the cynic I referenced earlier, secretly whispers everything I dislike, hate and want to change about myself before releasing my own future trash into the sky. It rises and camouflages with all the other lanterns, in no way making my hopes and wishes different than the rest, becoming nothing more than a shimmer amongst stars.
I laughed amongst friends as the first lantern we released caught fire and came to a crippling end in the moat before us. We all screamed at lanterns that, moments before reaching their freedom, became dangerously close to snagging tree branches that stretched their arms far and wide. We strategically let go of our lanterns so that our friends could capture the moment forever with the click of a camera, become a snap on our stories and later posted on Instagram, refreshing our pages over and over again hoping for a new onslaught of likes.
Still didn't get quite the angle I was hoping for.
I think of my previous New Year’s resolutions. This year, I question the absence of one. Usually, my thought process goes as such on January 1st: lose weight, buy this then that, possibly improve my love life (or lack thereof, with no one to blame but myself).
This year, there are no resolutions. I thought to myself that I would go home after work, make a list, tape it on the door, write about it, ponder it: what is it that I really want? That’s the thing about resolutions: you have to want something bad enough to take a holiday to recognize it, acknowledge it, maybe even write it down.
It’s not that I don’t want anything. I’m feeling as though, however, distinguishing only a handful of certain things simply isn’t good enough. Past dreams and goals that once needed pen to paper to get any sort of validation have become my daily thoughts. On breaks at school I email everyone and anyone who will let me freelance for them. I tweak my resume in my free time. I read an ungodly amount of books in hopes it will, in turn, improve my own writing. I think part of having a legitimate, proper New Year’s resolution is to simply not have one at all: to know that you don’t need to make a Facebook status announcing your weight loss goal to be held accountable if it’s what you truly want.
If I were to make a proper list, I warn you it would be a long one. With all the things I want to do, people I want to meet, things I want to change, both about myself and the world in which I sometimes fear to be a part of.
I feel as though my blogging has only reflected on the aspects of my new life that make me incredibly sad; it reflects my loneliness and struggles out into the digital world, but hardly do I ever mention any of the good stuff. That’s not because there isn’t so much joy in my life. I just spent the weekend in Chiang Mai ringing in 2016 with so many beautiful people. We brought in the new year with a white water rafting excursion (which is honestly the best cure for a hangover as far as I can tell), we cooked traditional Thai meals and ate until it actually became physically impossible and even after seeing an abundance of temples, we still found ourselves in awe at Wat Phra That Doi Suthep.
Although I still may be incredibly lost in the direction I hope to go in my life, I can tell you this: I am happy. So happy enough that I don’t feel the need to write down all of the resolutions I hope to resolve this new year. Happy enough that I can reflect on the things I want to change and actually do something to make them happen.
“I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.’”