In my humblest opinion, this year is weird. More than once it blindsided me with something akin to a premonition just to come to a halt midway and tell me how boring it would be if I had predicted it right. I am too cocky to its liking, perhaps, for guessing and betting, so it needs a good maneuver to throw all of the tiles off guard.
Well, if everything happens for a reason, I suppose this year is treating everything with mild curiosity. "What if I swap this scene with that one?" It would probably wonder to itself. "What if we don't do the obvious and offer the antithesis instead?" In my head, it would also hysterically spiral out of control whenever the 'just-about' happens. "Ha! I got you good! I got you really, really good!”
Yet again we are clowning, so that, my friend, is why I feel like bestowing this year with the award of the "Most Almost Land". Let me give you some contexts: I thought I was going to survive another year in my old job, but I quit three months before the new year—what a freaking almost; my observation skill notices how gloomy and dark the sky has been lately and how crazily the wind has been blowing so I keep an umbrella close to me everywhere I go—the forecaster swears that the rain almost comes but it just doesn't; November has almost successfully conjured up the famous early Christmas vibes, yet the air just hasn't felt any much different.
(“See?" the year would point out with its sheer cheekiness, “Even those examples are not even bad.")
I mean, sure, you do you, year, but isn't it time to admit that for some particular moments, almost is a cruel tease of what could have been? Let me give you some other contexts: there was a friend whose existence I almost thought would be consistent in my life—it turned out that she only came to me when she needed something, so good riddance; almost might be an overstatement, but I was a step closer to getting my hands on two tickets of Ghibli's symphony concert just to see that my dream was crushed with no available seat left; I almost got close to a he I was crushing hard on—what could have been if I jeopardized my chances of losing by eliminating the sheepishness that posed as a high barricade dividing myself and my supposedly romantic future? Would we hit it off?
In most cases, I don't blame anyone but myself. I must shamefully admit that I have always been a risk-averse person. If I must rank the three things that lead me into doing something, I would say that while I let my brain guide me from decision to decision, my feeling has more say in deciding which one to choose, though the power that seals the fate lays in the hand of whether or not I have the courage to do so.
It is borderline idiotic behavior. I should let the audacity take over and be more impulsive, like the cat that I saw in front of my flat the other day. It kept pushing its way to get into the building no matter how hard I shushed it away. I tried to close the gate without hurting it, but it was so headstrong and reckless with its desire to play inside that the mental picture has now been imprinted as a random metaphor in a random blog post. I don't even like real cats (I like them in images and videos though).
See how apathetic it is, wriggling its body with no care for the world when humans are going to work?
If anything, this cat has taught me to see the world with less prejudice, while my desire to be more impulsive is also encouraged by an unheralded finding. I have been so obsessed with Allie Brosh's hilarious blog, the famous Hyperbole and a Half. It is feeding me the morale-boosting of what I deep down want to do: take the driver's seat of my life and drive like there is no tomorrow. (Allie, if by some magical force you stumble upon this blog and read this, please know that even though I am late to proclaim myself as a big fan, I believe that my wish for you to be back to blogging regularly is in line with the wish of your other faithful readers.)
So in the name of being more spontaneous and getting rid of the almosts, here are some unsolicited junks that wouldn't ever be posted if I still glorify aesthetic values over some meaningless pictures:
The morning after it finally rained the night before
Isn't it the cutest soes you have ever seen in your entire life?
In the middle of an enraged mass because of an unnecessary traffic jam
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Can you see the bruises? It turns out that my legs have not healed from the fall during the roller-skating sesh
In my new job, we buy lunch quite early in the morning, and I don't even have to choose! Say no more to racking my brain for lunch idea
That time I took a different route home. Look at the sky, look how it shines for you...?
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