2014 was a good year. It wasn’t the best year yet, but it was a good year. You did well. You didn’t do enough, but there isn’t much to worry about. Well, except that you’re still existing and not living. When the year began, you told me that you were going to live more. You told me that you were going to achieve more. You told me a lot of things. Some you did, some you couldn’t do. Which is fine. I understand. I expected more, but I understand.
2014 was a good year. You survived. You are here. Maybe you did because you didn’t take any risks. You’ve always been afraid of taking risks. You calculate everything in your head and decide to not endeavour when you think that there might be the slimmest chance of failure. You’re afraid of failure. You exhibited a great deal of pessimism which you called realism just to make it sound better in your own ears. Which is fine. I understand.
2014 was a good year, even if it could have been a better year. You took so many little steps, when there was one giant step waiting to be taken by you. You can run away from it as long as you want to, but at the day’s end, you know it will find you. It will find you and keep you in its grasp until you can no longer run. You will have to stand and face whatever fears it is that you may have. You can’t keep running away forever. The little boy must become a man.
2014 was a good year, but it should have been better. You found new people, some of whom you met. You burnt bridges, and rebuilt burnt bridges. You refused to burn a few bridges that should have been burnt, and these connections only existed to hinder the greatness that you should become. You became better at deceit, a trait that serves you no good. Your honesty waned, causing a rift between existing friendships. You cared more for those undeserving, and cared less for those deserving.
2014 was not a good year, in brutal honesty. It was probably a year you wish you could forget quickly. All the intended deeds, and a few that were regretted. All the money spent, some wisely and a lot more foolishly. All the words, said or written, you wish that you could take back. All those offended that you wish you didn’t offend. All the time that was wasted that should have been invested. All the terrible decisions and lost opportunities. It really wasn’t a good year, was it?
Well, fuck it.
2014 was a good year, and hopefully 2015 will be better.
You must make sure of that.
Fin.
DYSTOPIUM 