Between the 31st and 1st

Before January 1, 2017 hit me, I was drunk on Vodka and had puked a couple of times before the NY’s kiss. I was at a place I didn’t want to be. I think I’d spent three NYEs at Cowboys fucking Casino in Calgary.

NYEs used to be a big deal for me, but they no longer are. The best time I had, went in stages.

As a kid, I used to love NYEs with family and fireworks. My sister, cousin, and I would schedule NYE with things to do and games to play. That way, we can make the day go by quicker. The last thing on the list would be a nap from around 8 p.m. until 9 p.m, and then my dad would’ve cooked a big, big dinner for the family and relatives in our former restaurant. Good times. All that kind of stopped when I turned fifteen or so – same with Christmas. Everyone had lost his or her enthusiasm. I had too.

When I was around eighteen, I discovered the fun of clubbing. And yes, it involved booze because I wanted to fit in, and peer pressure was no obstacle. People liked me, what more would you want?

The best time was in my early twenties when I realised that clubbing combined with Rock and Metal was possible; most importantly, I shared with many friends who have the same interest in music and love for Desperados. (Note: It’s one of the few beers that I like and would drink at least once or twice a year when dancing hard.) Those were my favourite times back home in Hamburg.

I miss those days a lot, but you grow older, and things and people change.

One of my most memorable NYEs was crying to sleep before midnight with Franz Schubert’s Winterreise on repeat. I needed that cry so bad, though. That was 2011, I think, after I’d graduated from my MA degree and moved to an apartment in Southeast London. The previous year I went out clubbing in Islington/London with my friend. The place we went to was supposed to be an indie club, and it’s important to note that people make a fuss out of NYE –so it’s no longer an indie club, but an I-wanna-get-laid club. Wherever you swing your hips, there’ll be hands grabbing you at every move. You are surrounded by drunk pricks thinking they had every right to approach you. Anyway, my friend got picked up. I remember taking the train home alone and not being able to go to bed that night…or morning, whenever it was, I got home. I also had Nine Inch Nails’ Hurt on repeat for the whole time that I was dozing off in my student dorm room. For some reason, my existential crises are always worst between the 31st and 1st. I think of people as ‘vertical carrions’ waiting to be eliminated before they create even more stink on Earth. Only those that are waiting for it are aware of what they are. The rest is simply walking.

The only way to get out of this mindset is to think of Sisyphus. On the other hand, I don’t know if existentialists believe in destiny, but I do. If you ever get to make a choice, it’s usually a chance to take. But sometimes, you’re just too numb and weak to remind yourself that you have to do this. Decide—every day.

I don’t understand the point of New Year’s resolutions, as you’re supposed to think of doing good deeds every day. Every day is the same. Only our planets’ alignments change, and this is the only thing we won’t ever be able to manipulate.

In summary, 2017 has been a year of making good friends, making good decisions, resolving problems, finalizing artistic projects and most of all –falling in love. Falling in love when you least expect it when you’d thought that deep connections and compatibility were a 1% chance.

Overall I’m grateful for this year. Everyone I love is safe. Everything I hate is not bothering me right now. And absurdity you have to revolt against.

I feel big changes coming my way – our way. The best thing about them is that we can make them good.

It’s a quiet one tonight. And I’m not alone.

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