It’s the evening of the 1st of January – the first day of the new year – and I’m sitting in the dark of the junk room trying to find a few words to put together. A few worthy words to mark the end of the previous year, and the beginning of the new one. So far I’ve got nothing.
I’m not really one for resolutions, because I very rarely stick at anything. Apart from blogging, perhaps. Of all the people I once knew that wrote blogs, only one of them still does. Her blog has always been the standard by which I judge other written blogs, and that I judge my own against. She somehow walks the tightrope between random thoughts, and long rambling introspection – I’ve never quite managed that.
I’ve found myself writing and drawing in paper notebooks over the Christmas holidays – for the first time in months. I’m not sure if I’ll carry it on. Drawing Manga characters is fun, but I can’t help feeling it’s kind of a pissing competition – to shout “look what I did – aren’t I clever”. I don’t like playing that game.
While on the subject of notebooks, I had all the intentions in the world of starting a “Bullet Journal” this year, but have so far done no more than write my name in the front of the book I bought for the purpose. I’m inclined to just carry on with the Filofax organiser I’ve been using for the last several years. I’m wondering if the new notebook was more about spending money on something I didn’t really need in a stationers than doing anything productive.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go drink some coffee. I spent the greater part of today at a wonderful friend’s house being plied with alcohol. She’s kind of hard to refuse, and I’m rubbish at saying no – which means my head will probably feel like it’s been run over tomorrow.