Writing on New Year’s Eve

I originally spelled New Year’s Eve new Year’s Eye. More on that later: (Not really)

I actually learned something grammatical about parentheses this year. It is that the content that goes inside of the parentheses is not important and is unnecessary information, yet we have this extreme need/urge to add it that blurb in there; at least I do. It must be I write mostly unnecessary, not important things. Tis’ true, but I don’t mind. I love writing useless or, on its rare occasion, useful things.

2014 was such a bad year, you know. I feel like it could have been so much more, but this is me talking in a state of depression. So scratch everything I just said.

Really, I am grateful for this year more than any other. It was such a medium year. Uncertain, stuck, confusing, like the dimension Matthew McConaughey was stuck in in Intersteller. Yes, it’s exactly like that. Beautifully and Masterfully confusing.
(Ow. My back is hurting right now. I hate it, seriously, whyyyyyyy.)

But yeah, that was 2014 for me, in words I guess. I gained weight, which I love. I failed a number of times: maybe hundred, literally, but I love this. I cried over 100 times over the year, this is 100% certain, but I am grateful. It was truly a blessed year.

Happy New Year’s Everyone! 2015!!!!!!!

I should end this way, but I won’t. I’m very happy and nervous right now. I think this year I may even become an adult.


But 2014 was definitely a year that really needed to happen to me, you know? I needed that challenge, I needed to experience pain and failure more than ever before. I needed to know how I would handle it, and how much better I need to create this person that I am. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen myself as a writer. Even though I love defining myself as this, no human can have a single trait to define them. It’s inhumane. Sure, we have our appellation (I learned this year that this means “name or, title”), but behind the letters that make up our name there is too much human to define singularly.

Anyways, my annual New Year’s Eve point is, be grateful for yet another year of tremendous failures. I never realized until now how much I grow up every turning year, both in size and mind. My heart is feeling the yearns of nostalgia. It’s happily weeping.

Anyways, I’m glad to get rid of the past-I’m sorry I just hand to say that: it’s a New Year’s Eve cliche requirement.

In reality, I’m glad to take it with me, into this New Year that is 2015. Every time I say 2015 I say it in the “hurrah!” voice of a crazed football fan. I love it.

I wish everyone an emotionally and mentally inconsistent, but Happy New New New New New New New New New New New New New New New Year.

I wrote new 15 times yes.


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