Reminiscences of 2015



One more week and another year bites the dust.

If I’m honest, this is not my favorite time of the year. Nostalgia pleads with me to let her in. Her act is convincing and I am a perennial sucker. Once a foot in the door she sheds her disguise and morphs into a mix of syrupy sentimentality and cut throat cynicism before comfortably settling in the armchair of my mind. Tricked, again.

As usual, her monologue is long on regrets and short on compassion, laced with trite put-downs and half-baked truths, meant to disempower and marginalize.

But this year I’ve come prepared. Oh yes, life’s a mess but a glorious mess at that. The pull of the drain is formidable but there’s enough idiots out there to clog up the vortex with their gluttonous inertia to prevent my demise. Besides, my wings have grown this year. And you know what? I’ve met other aeronauts. Some already soar high while others slowly shed the paralyzing grip of cultural vertigo and peek over the nest’s edge.

So to hell with the “life’s-a-bitch-but-you-can’t-change-anything-so-you-might-as-well-make-her-your-bitch” crowd. I am not falling for that trick anymore baby. No matter how glorious the lace.

As for the smugness of entitlement, the insecurity-fuelled bigotry and nationalistic pride, the belittling authority of rulers and religions; whore them somewhere else. I got no room for dead weight. I’m going to fly higher.

Let’s meet up there.