Another year of merda

   The end of this year feels heavier than the previous one - I have held a strong distaste for the holidays for the past few years, though I try to refrain from being superstitious about them. And in the past few years I take the time to reflect on what I have learnt, gained and lost in the year that passed. And the counting this year was painful and resembled pouring salt over wounds that remain unhealed. 

  In this year I felt the rug of what fragile little security I had built being pulled from under my feet. One of my most important relationships dissolved and I am still trying to balance the automatic-guilt with the fact I did not deserved to be treated like that. Another important relationship has all the trust I placed in it sucked right out. The sense of home I had tried to built was picked apart and now any room can feel like a home in the sense that if you decorate any hotel-room enough you can play-act it into being a haven. I came to realise that my bones are my only home, weary and heavy as they are and I quit believing in almost anything. 

  The last day of the year finds me home, looking out at a grey sky, feeling disconnected from everyone and slightly desolate for it. My attachment to people has become more discoloured than it was in the past and I allow myself to face this feeling without guilt.  May the next year be kinder. May we learn to give a shit and show that we give a shit.  

  May we learn. And grow.

  So that all the pain has been worth it.

  I expect nothing out of anything.