I know I should do a better job and put more effort into the content I’m writing so that it goes beyond this daily diary format of how am I feeling today; especially two weeks away from finishing this project (or, at least, honoring my promise of spending a whole year writing a post a day, every day).
The reality of the situation is that there are days obviously lighter than others, some that are busier with no time or even a desire to think, some that I hate having to force myself to write, others that I would like to write a thesis on why society is going from bad to worse past the point of no return…
To be honest, the MOST of the time I just want to spare you from reading depressive, heavy and cynical thoughts every single day (or at least, a LOT of them). There’s no need to subject the reader to a constant state of bleakness.
Of course, there are good days, happy ones, where I listen to Belle and Sebastian, instead of Bob Dylan, and the world is a nice place to live, and keep on living. You wake up eager to tackle on the day, filled with energy, listening to “Exile On Main St” early in the morning, while eating fluffy pancakes with tons of syrup and filling.
Those days do exist, they’re undeniably good for you. The problem is that there are fewer of them, and when they end, I stop celebrating their memory. Happiness, for me, either comes in the form of a puppy that just wants to be petted and snuggled, or a wild-horse that you have to beat down, and suffer through taming it before being able to enjoy your relationship with it.
Needless to say, I’ll pick the puppy over the horse on any day of the week, but that’s not the way life works.