The title has been paraphrased from a famous play by the late Eugene O’Neill. Regardless, there are good years, and not so good years. Sometimes, we just want to turn over a new page, walk over the past and start a new chapter. When we look back years later, we’d be happy to chalk it under one of those years, and appreciate our good fortune. Twenty seventeen: I’m glad *it’s over*. Insert Vinsanity post-dunk contest Vine here.
It’s bloggin’ time
This year started with so much promise, in all phases of my life. I’m not gonna give a shopping list of what appeared well, but the beginning had the look of something more. I picked off from where I left in twenty sixteen, quite an eventful year per se. Since August 2016, I have become a prolific blogger. This year, I was there to document for all twelve months. From Donald Trump to Jose Rizal, snowy Jindabyne to lost friends, I was present and chronicling. From the cold war in summer to ‘some winter chronicles’, I battled the heat and chill in bringing you my thoughts. Aside from that, I’ve been writing fiction. Five stories altogether, four of them published. Later on, I thought of compiling my body of work thus far. Hello, first ever book!
An imperfect world
Of course, there’s more, but I’d like to leave them out, since it’s still a work in progress. Meanwhile, the book and blogging alone would seem more than enough for some. While I would like to offer that I write for my pleasure, we all know it doesn’t work out that way. We need others; as they say, ‘It takes two to tango.’ Of course, in a perfect world, we would have it all: commercial success, critical acclaim, mainstream popularity. I guess what I can say is: be lucky with what you’ve got. This year, I’ve seen people suffer. Whether it was man v man or man v nature, there is no shortage of broken bones and shattered lives. A swim in the water could cause you to lose a limb, courtesy of a shark. Carollers might convince you to donate hundreds to Vision Australia, and help vision impaired kids. A drunken rage may even cost a life, and poor judgment could see you placed behind bars for decades. In the end, this cynic is thankful that he can face another year. I may not fully embrace the heavy challenges ahead, but I’m glad that I have the opportunity to do so.
Twenty eighteen: welcome to the world of the brave!