2017

(A bitter happy-new-year note.)

In every moment when the earth has revolved around the sun for (not exactly) 365 days, the world celebrates by the most decent symbol of human life: fireworks. They cost some fortunes, they are earned with efforts, and if there's any perceived beauty of it, it's fleeting at its best.

And we usually fall to the same tedious lies we see every year - a game of suggestion and a fairy tale of a better self that are repeated in different forms and different notes. It's a hope for something new, something that might transcend the perks our greedy hearts experienced a year before and overcome all the fucked-up shits we store in the deepest chambers of our souls.

All of these, which are often summed in one annual clamor called "happy new year", might just be a lonely manifestation of our (un)conscious acknowledgment and salute to life itself for constantly performing its outstanding magic tricks that have us trapped in a quasi-eternal absurdism. After all, does not grandeur celebration veil nothing else but our weaknesses?

And so we try to comfort ourselves with the most understandable way that a person can think of: to discover meanings and - for the restless wonderful souls who are not easily satisfied with structure-fixed answers - to create them, which is the very basis of our helpless escape into two different interconnected realm of imaginations and ordinariness.

In such a pathetic condition of living a suffering life, the mystery that stands yet undiscovered within the next another imagined, presupposed 365 days is the only fragile thing one can depend on. And when one has observed life and its anomalies that keep serving the unexpected to our tables, to live is then a shame and a pride that must be performed should one be curious enough to see how things deconstruct and reconstruct itself into polymorphic bitter realities one must courageously face.
And in this ever-changing post-birth and pre-mortality realm, we might find some drops of happiness that would fix our broken souls.

- January, 01 2017.
A.S.

Have another year of vain life that would hopefully be wasted well, people!