From the moonlit balcony, accompanied by the smooth sound of jazz, I am writing my very first blog. I'm not sure why I'm doing this and I have no idea where this is heading. All I know is that something compelled me to do something different before the clock strikes midnight, before the last day of the year begins, and before my neighbour realises that the weirdo in the pink bathrobe is in fact me.
While gazing on the moon's light, I start regurgitating memories from this past year. Three hundred and sixty four days at my disposal. I did all I could do and yet I should have done more. The difference between could and should is deeper than just grammar. I should know.
Knowing. Being aware. Aware of what? One thing I should probably tell you before this goes any further is that I am a passionate idealist (with a twist). I see rainbows where there are none. I live in a world of dreams, a world where reality is nothing but a mere shadow on the wall. Much like the shadow that Peter Pan lost and tried to reattach with soap. Only I have the needle and the thread but I fail to use them.
Thinking you're hanging by a thread. It happens to me and I'm sure it happens to you too. Maybe if we all stop being so dramatic about it, we would realise that we're only two inches above the ground, and letting go is not as hard or as painful as we once thought it would be. But then again maybe that's just me and the way my grey matter functions.
Speaking of brains and functions, I have a feeling that mine is going to cease performing its duties very soon. My iTunes SmoothLounge radio tells me I've been outside in the cold for two whole crazy hours. In fact, the clock did strike midnight and I didn't even notice, which means that it is the last day of the year, which means that in less than twenty four hours, you and I will probably be celebrating the start of the new year.