It bothers me that people get so excited for a new year and a “new chapter.” They start making goals and say they’re going to have a fresh start. But this isn’t the case.
In my time I’ve found that January is the absolute worst month ever, and it doesn’t change over the years. January tends to leave me in the absolute worst mood, as well as those around me. It leaves me testy and lethargic. My self esteem is the lowest in January and I can’t seem to focus or get my mind wrapped around things. Trying is useless and doing is out of the question.
I think it may be some leftover angst that had been put aside in the spirit of Christmas, but the fact remains that it is absolutely awful.
Often in poetry and art emotions are depicted by certain types of weather, times of day, and colors. Rain, blue, sadness. Sunsets, red, love. Sunshine, yellow, joy. Spring, green, renewal. Cold, monochrome, angst. What I’m trying to say is a new start is probably not going to happen in the bitter winter at midnight. It doesn’t match up with the themes and certainly not with the feelings of the time.
The new year isn’t a fresh start. It’s not got the right atmosphere for such a thing. The new year is a time to reflect on the past and learn from our actions. It’s a time to take stock of what we have and where we are that we might prepare for a change come spring and the flowers will welcome us.
I’ve spent far too long trying to start anew in the bitter cold of my emotions. I think it’s best to wait for the ice to melt, and relish the warmer months of the soul.
tiring pages, 