It's a new year, my friends.
What am I doing? ... *mumble* *mumble* blog post *mumble* I like writing. Don't judge.
I have no resolutions to make, no oaths to swear, or contracts to sign. The new year is clean and wide and open, sparkling crystal free, with plenty of room in the margins for me to scribble my notes. In fact, forget margins. It's an entire book of blank pages. There is unspoken dialog waiting to be memorized, descriptions not yet pinned down with words, entire volumes of hope, summer evenings, iced tea, whispered dreams, and shared hearts yet to be read or written.
Resolutions? Pft, I say. How boring. How utterly conventional.
There are ideas, instead, bouncing around in my head. Pictures and wishes and stories. I want to start a new semester fresh and eager. Embrace new friends and cherish old ones. I want to travel across the states to places I've never visited before. I want to stay up all night and laugh the sun out of its slumber. I want to write centuries worth of "what if"s and a king's ransom of nonsense, and I want to weave myself into a fairytale. Maybe I'll have an adventure or meet a kindred spirit or just get A's in all my classes. Or actually bake muffins at college. Or learn how to do a handstand. Or defeat biology. Or meet a prince. Or all of them!
My plans are a little sketchy. Bear with me.
2013, I declare you to be an amazing year. It's just pretty much the way it's going to have to be, whether you like it or not. It has been decided.