The year is new yet I feel old.
There are 365 new chances yet it seem like I have run out.
All is fresh but I have been rotting inside.
A pessimist, that is who I am, with limited bouts of sunshine, sometimes with a drip of laughter. I have made plans for this year, but the ink is fading. I find myself erasing the lines I calculated, repressing my thirst for change and coming into terms with my responsibilities. I justify my cowardice with my half-assed obligation. Half-assed because embracing such comes with selfishness and fear. I am dueling with an ancient old nemesis, dueling isnt even the appropriate term to use. Dueling meant fighting, all I ever did was fly.
