Thoughts

Damn this iPad. It’s difficult to blog using one hand to hold the pad and the finger of my other hand to type. I thought I would get creative and produce something on notepad and then copy and paste it into here but alas, I left out an entire paragraph, the opening paragraph in fact and now I’ve lost it all, and I have only this. But I do know that my prior opening paragraph contained the words, stench and flatulence in it. So I’ll sit back and allow the stench of flatulence to wash over me as I consider how to proceed.

As much as I try to escape it, my mind keeps drifting back to my family. The ones I haven’t spoken to in years, the ones who have moved on to the great beyond. How can I even attempt to reach out when they no longer exist in this earthly realm? All that remains is the gaping hole they left behind, a constant reminder of my own mortality.

But here I am, surrounded by comforts and distractions. My dog, the faithful companion, bounces around on the bed, blissfully ignorant of the weight that rests heavy on my shoulders. His only concern is tomorrow morning, and perhaps a trip to the park. I envy his simplicity, his unwavering joy in the present moment.

As the year comes to a close, I find solace in meditation. In quiet contemplation, I try to make sense of it all. I think back to the past weeks, where I indulged in massive amounts of alcohol. To some, it may seem like a destructive coping mechanism. But for me, it’s one of life’s little joys – a liquid that has been approved by the heavens, as long as it’s consumed in moderation.

But what is moderation in the face of chaos? In a world where everything seems to be spiraling out of control, how can we find balance? These are the questions that plague me as I lay here, lost in my own thoughts, surrounded by the calming buzz of my cyberpunk sanctuary.

But as I sit here and reflect on this past year, I can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Relief that this year, with all its trials and tribulations, is finally coming to an end. But also, relief that I made it through. That I survived another year, wiser and battle-hardened.

As I raise my glass to the end of this year, I also toast to a new beginning. A chance to start fresh, to learn from the past and move forward with newfound clarity. And as I drift off to sleep, I can’t help but feel a glimmer of hope for what the future may hold – a future full of endless possibilities, just waiting to be explored.