Another end

So another year is coming to an end. But I am not prepared. To tell you the truth I'm sort of afraid. Afraid about what kind of ends this end anticipates. And afraid of what the next year possibly holds. I remember getting a great sense of hope of renewal the same time last year. But right now I'm just tired and not ready to start over. The whole grind of starting and finishing only to start over again to inevitably end again is kind of getting to me. Like I said, I'm tired. I celebrated last year. Perhaps I will mourn this year. Mourn for 2011, mourn for the unfulfilled desires, mourn for the hurts the year brought along, mourn for the incomplete.

All the talk about a clean slate doesn't make sense to me. I don't think a clean slate is what I need. It is not what I want anyway. What I want is to complete the picture on the slate. A picture captured in the canvas of the year that has passed. It is missing something and from where I see it right now it does not make sense nor is it visually appealing. I suppose I could just rub it off and start over to get a beautiful one this time. But would you erase that drawing not so skillfully done by your toddler? Or would you throw away that poorly written letter from the person you love? Well, the thing I'm trying to convey is.. this picture on the slate, in spite of itself, is something of a treasure to me because of all that I gave of myself to make it what it is today even if incomplete. Incomplete, I figure, because a help from another is needed sometimes to make half one, if you know what I mean. While the fact is I've just been doing it on my own. So I suppose now you see why I can't just rub it off the slate. And I suppose I may have to leave it incomplete. But to erase it I don't have the heart.

Perhaps then this suggests I will have to start the new year with undeniable fragments from the previous. But, then again, isn't that always so? So maybe that is not my issue here. The issue probably is that while in the past I've been content with going with the flow, I've stumbled upon something that I feel about with such certainty no matter how thin its chances of becoming. And I know it is simply crazy and yet there's something inexplicable that has me glued on with eerie belief. I think hope can make one go mad. The end of this will either prove that I am  nothing but delusional or that there really is something called 'destiny'... You know, I don't like the way I sound right now. Let's put it another way. That perhaps I will move on someday because I might have no other choice besides actually going mad, like the mental hospital mad. But as of now I suppose I will stay true to this blessed mess inside of me, and let the new days unfold.

And well, a Happy New Year to all.

"Year's end is neither an end nor a beginning but a going on, with all the wisdom that experience can instill in us." - Hal Borland