My first blog is being written whilst my small frame is being fuelled by White Russians. I mean the cocktails, not the race. So excuse me for spelling mistakes and tones of sentimentality.
I've just entered the 6th day of the decade and my over-conscious state of mind is fixated, as ever, on the time that has elapsed since I last noted the hour at which I was existing. The time moves forward and optimistically counts up... and on a loop, counts up again but I can't helped but wonder whether we're neglecting the fact that we're really counting down.
I've never cared much for a new years celebration and I've never had a spectacular time celebrating it (perhaps as a consequence to my indifference), but I have celebrated a moment, a feeling and a time of optimal joy; isn't that more imporant than an antique disposition in favour of the master we obey (Time)? I say celebrate the moment as you'd celebrate a millenium, say 'nunc est bibendum' if you adhere to the old or let your fears calculate what may be new. but celebrate that you're having that moment and that the next is about to begin.
I am in pain and I am in bliss but neither can override the feeling of being one who exists.