My First New Year's Resolution
I used to write a lot.
Occasional musings and lengthy meditations, where I would write subjectively with every excruciating detail deserving mention, without fear for the thoughts and concerns of those who read what I shared, wholly ignoring the structures of proper writing to which I generally adhere today.
It was beautiful, really. I used to fall in love with people through text. And I'm not talking about texting or instant messaging or any other form of digital communication, but rather paper notes exchanged in classes and my own personal reflections scribbled each night as I awed in wonder of what my daily living encompassed. Some might say it's old-fashioned, but marking my thoughts and feelings in that black, single-subject, college-ruled notebook which I later threw away for fear of judgment made me alive.
At no time would one superficially observe me living on "the edge," enjoying the grand splendors youth offered to its possessors. But I was having the time of my life. I was happier than I can ever hope to be.
What changed?
There was a tipping point at which I realized that what I wrote was not what was. I wasn't seeing the whole picture. I used to see only the good in people. My positive slant failed to see the flaws. In hindsight, my decisions rooted in these fogged paradigms led to bad decisions, some regrettable.
In response, I began to search for the worst in people. Sometimes I saw nothing but the bad, the ugly, those qualities which we possess but never hope to reveal. I began to share very little of myself, even in the confidence of others. On top of that, I got busy. A time-sensitive reality set in. I had no time to write, to argue with myself the merits of my actions and desires.
I have carried an increasing sense of sorrow since. But in some esoteric manner, I hope to counter this.
As I've tried in the past but plan to fully commit to in the future, the year of 2012 will be a year of change.
To the best of my ability I will handwrite a letter each day and send it to its respective recipient. These will be letters of appreciation, acknowledgment, recognition, and understanding. I hope to publish some of these letters, if the recipient deems it appropriate.
If I ask for your address, please do not fear I will stalk you. I have not the time nor the desire.
As is fitting at the close of one year and the beginning of another, this is my first New Year's Resolution.
--
May you all cherish the soon-to-be New Year, Steven.
Occasional musings and lengthy meditations, where I would write subjectively with every excruciating detail deserving mention, without fear for the thoughts and concerns of those who read what I shared, wholly ignoring the structures of proper writing to which I generally adhere today.
It was beautiful, really. I used to fall in love with people through text. And I'm not talking about texting or instant messaging or any other form of digital communication, but rather paper notes exchanged in classes and my own personal reflections scribbled each night as I awed in wonder of what my daily living encompassed. Some might say it's old-fashioned, but marking my thoughts and feelings in that black, single-subject, college-ruled notebook which I later threw away for fear of judgment made me alive.
At no time would one superficially observe me living on "the edge," enjoying the grand splendors youth offered to its possessors. But I was having the time of my life. I was happier than I can ever hope to be.
What changed?
There was a tipping point at which I realized that what I wrote was not what was. I wasn't seeing the whole picture. I used to see only the good in people. My positive slant failed to see the flaws. In hindsight, my decisions rooted in these fogged paradigms led to bad decisions, some regrettable.
In response, I began to search for the worst in people. Sometimes I saw nothing but the bad, the ugly, those qualities which we possess but never hope to reveal. I began to share very little of myself, even in the confidence of others. On top of that, I got busy. A time-sensitive reality set in. I had no time to write, to argue with myself the merits of my actions and desires.
I have carried an increasing sense of sorrow since. But in some esoteric manner, I hope to counter this.
As I've tried in the past but plan to fully commit to in the future, the year of 2012 will be a year of change.
To the best of my ability I will handwrite a letter each day and send it to its respective recipient. These will be letters of appreciation, acknowledgment, recognition, and understanding. I hope to publish some of these letters, if the recipient deems it appropriate.
If I ask for your address, please do not fear I will stalk you. I have not the time nor the desire.
As is fitting at the close of one year and the beginning of another, this is my first New Year's Resolution.
--
May you all cherish the soon-to-be New Year, Steven.