Resolution

Last night I'd only had three beers and then I decided to go to bed. And so I did. And fell asleep fairly easily. I almost always have four. I used to have five for awhile. So first I was getting worse, does this mean that now I'm getting better? Is this progress?

How could it be. Not possible. When I know it was three beers years back that led me to four and later the four that led to five. I've only managed somehow to rewind a bit, but once I press play again those same scenes will inevitably unfold the same as they did then.

Go back far enough it was only one. Even further back, it was none at all. How did none become so many? Choices. Not bad ones. Not good ones. Just the kind you don't realize you've chosen until it's too late to take them back.

So now it's New Year's Eve. The one night it's acceptable to drink as much as you want. The night where you pass out then wake up to a whole new year. An empty notebook. It's just begun. And you can do whatever you want with it.

People make resolutions. To become what they perceive as 'better people'. I've never been one to make resolutions. I never could resolve anything. Not myself. Nor anyone. And the changing of the hours, the days, the years, whatever, never seemed to have much impact. Just numbers and labels. That's all they are. Imaginary sign posts in our minds we use to reassure ourselves about how far we've gone.

Why celebrate how one year melts into the next? Pretend it can help us alter ourselves. When in reality it only emphasizes how very stagnant we are.

Everything around us is in constant flux and yet, we remain true to our most abject of conditions. We use events like this to tell ourselves we do change and can. But the truth is, we're the one thing that doesn't.