The year twenty-seventeen has come to a close. Almost. You don’t often see the year written out like that. Or would you prefer I wrote it out like so? — two-thousand-and-seventeen. So archaic.
An afternoon spent meandering the local shops, trying to find the perfect jacket. It’s no news that I absolutely detest going shopping with my mother. I honestly wonder who does like going shopping with their mother. Returned emotionally drained, and empty-handed. Was it all for nothing? I don’t know. My Mum seemed to enjoy herself.
Spent the evening drawing away.
Looking back at this year and the content I’ve posted on this blog, not much has changed; similar posts, going on about similar problems. Ah, the problems don’t change. I do. The depression has gotten worse, and I came to have lost contact with the world. Being a sanctimonious, highly-pretentious, and intolerant snob is a big part of this ongoing problem, I’m afraid. Added to that is insecurity about my profession, and a lack of social cues, which ranges on the autistic side of things. Tactless, that’s what I am. Maybe I’m wrong. Having a bad day could be part of the problem. When (if!) I’ll be looking back in the future at this post, I’d probably think something along the lines of – Ah, I was still a child! A trying time. Mortifying! If I had the opportunity, I’d probably bust my own jaw, and make sure that I wouldn’t take the things I’ve been given for granted. Crybaby! – I also think too much, and have a lot of free time on my hands which, believe it or not, can also be a problem.
Writing helps. Such a stress-reliever, I have to confess. I discovered Dvořák for myself, so beautiful!
Congratulating myself on the advent of New Year over the internet feels strange to say the least, so I’ll save myself the trouble and instead wish a Happy New Year to all you denizens and lurkers of the internets, whoever you may be (I don’t have a lot of readers)!
$root - whoami meek melancholic
Read nextMerry Christmas!
// Go back in timeSomeday...
// To the future