Our generation is rather unique, if you think about it. How many apocalypses have we survived now? Two? Three? All the panic buying, the bomb shelters, making sure your computer is Y2K-ready so that you can still function when the world goes to shit and planes start falling from the sky; we were so convinced we were going to die. And yet here we are, it’s 2013, and we were wrong about the Mayan calendar.
What does that say about us now?
Here’s what I think – it means we’re as stubborn as fuck. Regardless of whatever untrue prophecy, whether or not we were convinced the world was coming to an end, we made preparations. We did our best to stick it out. We gave fate the middle finger and said, “Fuck you, and Happy New Year.” We’re alive, despite our ridiculous fascination with the End of Days.
We’ve stuck it out through imaginary doomsdays both our fault and cosmically predetermined, and not once has the human race (save for the odd outlier here and there) hung up its coat and said, “Well okay, universe, I’m all yours.” There is something in us – some unexplainable force – that refuses to give in to how shitty things are or could be. There is an element of the human spirit that defiantly carries on, that attempts to overcome any hardship. It’s been evident in our history, what with all the plagues and wars and general unlikeability of the world. Somehow, we’re still around.
I’m bringing this all up now because we all need to remember that this force is within every single one of us, and it can drive us through any endeavor, regardless of how small or how great. We have the urge to get by. We have the urge to make things better, or at the very least palatable. We all just want things to be better, despite everything the world throws at us.
So make your New Year’s resolutions. Make those promises to yourself. Do your best not to fail at fulfilling them, but it’s okay if you can’t pull everything off – you’ll find a way to get by, anyway. You can’t help it. It’s just how people are, I suppose.
For my part, I guess I’ll find more time to write. Not for work, mind you, but for myself. I have a lot to say, and I was born to tell stories. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, to be honest, but I have faith in myself that I won’t let myself end up unfulfilled in that department. It’s going to be tough – at times, it might seem impossible – but I’m going to do it. We all are.
Fuck you, Universe. And Happy New Year. I’m going to be saying that for as long as I want to.