There are some years we look back at with regret, sad that they are over, sad that we didn’t do more, do better, do differently, reluctant to let them slip from our grasp and become part of our personal history.
The newspapers are full of the events we lived through, the happenings we experienced collectively through the media of every kind that encircle the planet. We raise a glass to absent friends and those who amazed us, amused us or entertained us. We shake our heads at those who shocked us. who horrified us and note the law catching up with them, if it can.
Like every writer, nostalgia is very much my stock in trade. I collect it, file it, sort and select it, categorise it and note those parts that might come in handy in the retelling.
I don’t want to do that with 2013, I would like to forget it as thoroughly as I can. I would like to expunge the pain of it, gather it into a roll, take it outside and squeeze out the anguish of it over a deep drain. I would quite like to beat the memories of it flat on a rock and let the tide wash them away. What is left I’d be happy to mangle back and forth through big rollers until it is entirely shredded, so that what is left is nothing left, nothing at all.
I’m done with 2013, I lived through it.
Now what I need is new! New! New!
I don’t want the same old. I am done with the old old. I am tired of the tired.
I want new! New! New!
Happy New year to you.
JaneLaverick.com – up for it.