Stories of January 2

No, I never resolved a New Year’s Resolution. I can barely recall the lists I made more than five years ago, nor can I discern if they are similar to what I aspire now. The promise of setting for yourself an annual goal used to be enticing; after all, everyone looked forward to it as a universal cultural ritual. But it is a tradition whose promise does not hold for all.

It didn’t hold for me too. Perhaps the only resolution I have accomplished is not to have any New Year’s Resolution, and even that I chose not to think as a resolution. The promise just faded away from me. And if there is anything that I chose to change in my year, I only set it as my goal, never as the hallmark of another year to come.

Come to think of it too, I might be terribly challenged in the posts to come. As of now, I do not have anything prepared for the Bucket List prompt, because I do not wish to entitle the trajectory of my life according to such rituals. If you are not someone who is capable of following through a pre-planned map and deadline, these things aren’t for you. More so if you are impulsive, easily swayed by trends, and idealistic. These lists become ghosts of your procrastination, and they feed it more than haunt it away.

So I try to work on what I can do today. And I am glad that I began this blog weeks earlier.

But my head hurts. My head terribly hurts.

My mother told me that we will go shopping today. Yesterday night, she gave me a cheque instead, to encash the next day and spend it in whatever I want. I used it to buy my own pocket wifi which with its very slow bandwidth seems to be a bad decision. I was to use it for a digital recorder, but it went far beyond the budget given to me.

But you see, I didn’t want to buy anything. I didn’t want to go shopping. I repulsed with seeing the cheque as a gift. I even told her that night that I was to use it for my thesis defense. Yet she assured me she would give me funds for that too. And a part of me just went on following what she said, even though there is really nothing worth of interest to me then.

Wait? Really? Yes. I have really been content with looking forward to these prompts that I couldn’t crave anything else. Books? I have too many unread books in my hard drive and room, and I am slowly getting the hang of reading them. I do not need any extra accessories for my computer. I couldn’t bother myself to buy new clothes and a watch even. Besides, within a few days I have conditioned myself to be satisfied with everything that I have and look forward to the things that I would earn through hardwork. And here comes a cheque to challenge all that conditioning.

It is difficult to resist when you have been conditioned to follow orders without question. So I just spend some of it without full awareness in the pizza I and my three other siblings had for the night, something which my sister suggested to me.

And my younger sister, the one next to me, walked out on us three when we began to question her casually about her lovelife. She had to go to her corner, hidden by a wall of curtains, throw her wooden chair on the floor, and shout at us.

“It’s not funny anymore,” she told us, I think.

“But we are your siblings,” I thought I shouted back at her, swept by the mood.

She was, before she threw her tantrums, giving generic answers, unlike before when she was open about her friends and the things they dud together. We tried to bring up the topics casually, delivering lines that she used to laugh about. But even that didn’t nudge her. She is going fourteen this year, by the way.

My father caught her tantrums, and as of the time I am writing this, my father is talking to her.

Each of us in our family is torn by wounds that still continue to hold us together. My mother, my father, my siblings, me. My younger sisters are all lucky really to be spared from the things I and my older sister have to endure. But even comparing myself to her I consider myself both unlucky and lucky. Probably more unlucky; as of now, my memories still paralyze me.

My stress levels are going up, which is why I decided to share this here. My birthday is closing in even, and even that feels much like a curse. But on the lighter note, I have faith in what can cure me; I hope I can carry on.

Move along then. Happy New Year.


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