Wednesday, 2 January 2013

New year, new start, new me = new $#*!.

I've scratched my head and I just can't figure this one out.
It's the start of a New Year. It's January (thus cold and officially the most depressing month of the year). People are in ever so much debt due to Christmas and probably not-quite-met-expectations New Years Eve celebrations. And some smart arse came up with the idea of making:
"New Years resolutions."

I ask one thing of you. Would you consider it apt to ask a baby to make plans for their life at their birth? Why, of course not. Ignoring the logistical factor in that they cannot speak, let alone speak anything of any sense, they are in a fragile and vulnerable state coming to terms with the start of their life. They need a bit of experience and age first. And it's effectively synonymous with NY resolutions. We're at the beginning of a new year, unaware of what is in store for us, and yet so many feel obliged to appeal to common practice.

Every year we create a long list of false promises. And why? Why start off the year on a bed of lies or unachievable aims? This is consumerism at it's best; companies play on your willingness to buy into recreating yourself, and you bet they can sell you just about anything from food to clothes to makeup to holidays. Because your life just wasn't worth living last year.

I'd much rather play with time and create my own periods in which to achieve my aims. And as far as I'm concerned, my New Me Resolutions don't start until the sun's shining bright.

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