So 2018 is coming to an end. It was a suckfest for me so screw it. I’m done with it. Bring it on 2019!
So new year, new me? Hell, no. I am me. I like me. Yes, our sense of self and self-identity change over time. So yeah, I am not the me I was at 20. But I don’t need a new me. Maybe a new body. Like a robot body I could transplant my consciousness into and every neural pathway was the same.
So we need New Year’s Resolutions and goals that we can pretend we will do and then not do.
My writing goals are:
- Finish the three main books I am working on
- Get an agent
- Try traditional publishing for a go
- Screw Imposter Syndrome
- Make billions of pennies at writing. Or enough to actually live off of
Some life goals I have:
- Rock my weirdness
- Get effective treatment for health issues
- Dye my hair blue, because I like cookies
- Take over the world and be a benevolent dictator
- Learn to say taciturn out loud the right way without having to go ‘oh I meant..’ correcting myself every damn time.
- Learn how to spell exhausted without spell check. I mean, what is up with that? I seem to think there is a mystery G in there.
- Stop overthinking. Just kidding. I can’t stop that. That is how my brain rolls.
- Be the geeky/dorky/nerdy hybrid I am
- Stop having migraines. I mean, this is excessive. My brain has to just stop triggering them at every damn thing I do. Existence is my main trigger though… so that is a tricky pickle.
- Learn to manifest my telepathic powers. As I am sure this mutant power is causing the migraines. So I just have to mutate faster.
- Win the lottery. Just saying. Totally achievable. Aside from not being able to afford a ticket. Still, I think my chances are good.
We all have goals and idea in a new year. And you know, really just think of 1% improvements to your overall wellbeing and you’ll be fine. Or make no resolution at all. No pressure. It is all just arbitrary anyway. Just a day. Just another day of a new year. Not like it is a fundamental line in our existence where the new year brings forth a change to our essential selves or anything. Sometimes we feel this sort of optimism. Like ‘This Year’ I will be such and such or do such and such. Sort of false optimism. Because we can be or do anything we desire anytime we want to. Goals can be achieved any damn time we want to traverse the path to them. So go forth and be… you. Or have a goal for something specific.
How I will celebrate the end to this suckfest of a year
- Burn my 2018 calendar in a sacrifice to the gods of fate
- Maybe stay up to midnight. Maybe
- Maybe get totally drunk
- Maybe write
- Maybe write while drunk
- Maybe fall asleep reading
- All possibilities are open to me aside from doing too much of anything
See other completely random posts:
What to do about writer’s block
Short: Dreamscape
Creativity and depression
The Wyrd 