Till The Arc Spits From Our Fingertips

The New Year has arrived, and we have successfully made another lap around a relatively small star.

We made another collection of memories and stories. Some of us have changed jobs, made people, and money. Some of us didn’t make it, some of us made news articles, reported on the changing of all manner of different events. And no matter the array of experiences that we’ve had, one thing remains.  We’ have all done it, simultaneously.

We’re still doing it.  And we’re all set up for another lap. We’ve mostly lived through the collection of everything; the expected and unexpected, the deserved, and the undeserved. We start and end every year the same way.

Always surprised and jaded.

“G-olly, sure can’t believe another year has gone by.”

And cliché and all, the older you get the shorter it gets.
Memories aren’t created in a vacuum.
Or better yet, don’t forget to vacuum, because I’ll be damned-

it really does freshen up the room.

The reason I’m writing in the public sphere now,
is to form an admission.
An admission that paints a picture of struggle,
a picture of change, and a realization that:

life   carries   on.

Over the past year I have seen a life that is unafraid to surrender. But also a life that is not willing to surrender under any circumstances. Two thousand and fifteen showed me that no matter which direction you’re headed; the opposite is equally possible.

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