Uncut

If you haven’t noticed yet, I’m a bit of a lush. But one night which you might expect me to party harder than no other, I choose to abstain, and that is new years eve. I have even been known to spend the new year fast asleep before midnight, it is perhaps the most single overrated night of the year.

What does this night signify to the world that every single douche bag wants to pay an excessive amounts of money to look like an idiot in fancy clothes? As a rule I do my best to avoid people like this, and I almost find it offensive that on this one night they must fill my friendly haunts, stumble in places meant for my drunken stupors. The week night alcoholics are best kept in a lightly populated nook with few but solid companions and their favorite spirits, new years eve provides an abhorring intrusion to even the most destitute of bars.

Also I am bothered by the notion that it is all a lie. The entire spectacle we base this holiday on is a complete falsehood. Bidding adieu to an old year, bringing a new year of hope and resolution, these are fictional falsehoods to our needy existences. Time is merely our cleverly constructed organization of our insignificant lives. There is no science, not pure fact that says a year is 365 days, that a day is 24 hours, minutes, seconds, we created them, gave time a purpose, to dictate our lives. In this false reality we can be held accountable for lateness, grow older, fail deadlines, and create entire new years, fresh starts. When in truth no day is inherently different than the last, no minute is fundamentally changed from the next, we have merely convinced ourselves they are. 

Before I get entirely too philosophical I will say, happy tomorrow, which will be no different than yesterday, happy new year, which will most likely be similarly miserable to the previous twenty before them. Affix your hopes and struggle to this moment, not a year, not a fictional place hold of time, right now, what else is there?