So. Xmas day 2006. Years pass, don’t they? And now we’re in the twilight zone between the de facto end of the year (today) and the actual end of the year (31 December). It’s a strange reflexive, actuely conscious moment during which you’re supposed to examine things and think about things and reflect and blah, blah.
So I’ll reflect. What occurs to me is that I build bridges and burn bridges at a generally remarkable rate. Also that I don’t live like most people. What’s different this year (or maybe the last couple of years) is that these facts have lost the sense of urgency that used to be associated with them and have instead been colored by a kind of reluctant self-acceptance. This is who I am.
“Who I am.”
Of course, that’s a meaningless, culturebound phrase, emblematic of the west, of individualism, of the marketplace and a management ethos concerned with instrumental categorization. What about “who I was” or “where I came from” or “where I’m going” or “how I feel?”
I feel as though things will be more or less similar to this, from here on out. They haven’t functionally changed in eight years. I don’t see why they should start now. And, frankly, I’m not doing much to change them. Why bother? Of all alternatives, this is the one that bothers me least.
“This is the best of all possible worlds,” goes the phrase, I believe.
Pour me another.