Twenty Fourteen


...And here it is...the first day of a brand new year.

I've always thought it a bit weird that one day marks a new beginning. It seems so forced. I never write the new year correctly until at least February. I haven't made any resolutions this year, either. I don't resolve to thinking I have control over anything, but I do have hopes and dreams that follow me into this magically odd transition. I swear people act as though there's this tangible door you close on 2013 and you never have to think about or deal with anything from that era of time again. 2013 (please forgive the metaphor I'm about to use!) is like a good toot. You may have let it go back at the corner of such-and-such street, but its remnants are following behind you.

This is why I have to apologize for the fart part. 2013 wasn't stinky. I actually was sad to see it go. So many wonderful things happened. There were some kinks for sure, but they're not sticking to my usually grudge-y self. Instead all the good moments just keep popping up. I'm nostalgic and a bit sad that it sped on by.

2013 was the year of Mish. Therefore, entonces, Ipso facto I loved it and then some. Farewell and damn you, Father Time. Stop with that crack fast speed stuff!

I'm not scared of 2014 by any means. The hope above is legit. Just had to get out one last love letter to the year that defined a totally wicked chapter.


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