tabula rasa

such an arbitrary event, a New Year, laden with such a disproportionate weight of expectations: this communal intake of breath before planting a first footstep into a future that, just in this moment, slightly intoxicated by that fleeting sense of connectedness, seems as alien as Mars - perfectly unknowable, and as challenging, dangerous, urgent, and thrilling as any journey into the unknown. for all I know - for all any of us knows - any one of these next 363 days could be my last. shame to waste it, then. best of luck to us all. let's go.