12.24.2013

361 - The Holidays.

Top - c/o Gyspy Warrior, Vest - Kill City, Jeans - Ksubi, Boots - secondhand via Wasteland

I know a lot of people love the holidays -- but I don't know why. The holidays always depress me. It probably has something to do with narcissism. Another year passing, another year creeping slowly closer towards the inevitability of death, consumerism, consumption, greed, debt, blah, blah, blah. 

I have a tendency to take inventory of my life when the year comes to end. What did I do well? What did I fail to achieve? What do I do about the itch building up inside of me, the one that screams "JUST GO" in the silent empty pauses between songs? Should I listen? Is there something wrong with just always going from one place to another? My grandfather once said, "No matter where you go, there you are." Would I be running from this city or from myself? Does it matter?

My inventory of 2013 is underwhelming, or maybe it's overwhelming, or maybe it's both. I fell out of love. I fell in love. I broke up with friends. I built new friendships. I lost inspiration. I found it. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. I fear that I have a tendency to use love as a crutch -- as though fantastic relationships are excuses to not go out and live the life I wish I had. I would go, but I am so happy here, so in love right now. Will there ever be a time that I am not? Maybe I appreciate the idiosyncrasies of people too much. Maybe it's too easy for me to fall in love. The awkward crease in someone's forehead when they smile. The way they wring their hands when they are worried. I want to kiss all of the worry away, there, in that moment, for any person at whom I am staring. I would kiss you were you crying. I would kiss you were you laughing. I would kiss you simply for being you, because even with all of your faults and strengths, you are a person, and that is so very special and worth knowing and understanding, even if you are positively absolutely terrible. There are such awful things in the world. And it frightens me and fascinates me and still I see humanity there. I feel too much and then it concerns me and then I choose to feel too little so that I don't cry and then I feel nauseous from all of the back-and-forth and all of the spinning in circles, and then I sit down on the floor and do nothing just so I can catch my breath.

Will 2014 be another year of so much nothing? Of spinning in circles, then of catching my breath? Oh, most certainly. Most certainly. Most certainly.