Saturday 2 January 2010

Me, the Me.


02/01/10 . . Do I really believe in that date? Truth of the matter is, yes, I do, I just chose not, like most of the things I do. This year, I chose to be a New Year Scrooge. It's all Bah! Humbug! to me and it seems all so silly to me. All so absurd, all so meaningless and for the first time, I stare at those three words and I stare at them hard. ''Happy New Year'' they say and I read them but I can't get myself to say them out loud. Every Ship must sail away, so, here is gone, 2009. Why do I not want to let go of it? Why do I hold on to it so tight? Is it where I feel safe? Is it where I want to be? I know, I don't. I just get cold feet as and when I move forward. It wasn't this hard. It has just become hard now. My feet get colder and colder and my steps seem to freeze but then there is a part of me that wants to run past it all. Run past twenty ten. Run to the hazy future that I want to see clear and bright. :) For it makes me smile. Oh yes! it does. :) They say, ''Live in the moment'' but where do I live, once the moment is over? So, I make an attempt to make sense (haha ironically the word is not often used in my context) of the haziness that lies infront of me but as I do so this fear and panic starts to grip (but the word rip would also do) me. The neauseating 'what ifs of what just might be a mirage'' attacks me from all sides! I, broken to bits, a bit that sighs, a bit that judes, a bit that comprehends none, a bit that thinks, a bit that smiles and a bit that doesn't give a tiny rat's ass (thank you Phoebe). Me, the me! oh! the me! that scorns at the drunken fools that enter semi-consciously, the fools that refuse to see what we have done to ourselves, what we are doing to ourself and everything around as we enter into this 'new' year. Is it really new? No, it isn't! These are the same people who did the exact same thing last year, them fools, who will do the exact same thing the year after this one. Me, the me! oh the precious me! that sees it all, the one that wonders what will become of it all? Where does it all stop? or does it EVEN stop? Me. the me! The one who sits cosy, in piles of wool! Me, the me! that points! Me, me that accuses! Bah! Humbug! you drunken fools! Me, OH ME! the hypocrite that is Me. :)

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