The curtains are soon drawing to a close, the end-of-year lists are being swiftly brought out, and we are looking to finishing it all with a pretty cherry on top – or so we think.
To be honest, the prospect of a new year has always hardly excited me; the usual practices of singing the auld lang syne with friends both new and old, watching fireworks blazing across the skies until our necks become sore, and doing the countdown like in days of yore – all of these have never truly featured in any of my new year eves of the past.
No, I am not about to start doing it either.
Just the thought of having to adjust to writing a new date leaves me with a dull fatigue usually associated with long-haul flights: it is the sort of lethargy that eagerly continues dissipating until you gradually cease in your anticipating. And this time, it feels as though we could actually be going places and not just changing phases.
But of course, you already know that these days I am no longer a festival, let alone a parade.
Tunnel vision lights my way
Leave a little light today.