A Wish for a Brand New Year

Dear 2017,

Please be good to me.


December 28, 2016 • 11:17pm

Dear 2017,

Please be good to me.


A wish for a good Life.

Here’s to another year of Hope, and Trust, and Dreams. Here’s to another year of Patience, and Kindness, and Forgiveness. Here’s to another year of doing things, making things, and creating things.

Here’s to everything I’ve never done last year. Here’s to possibility and less of doubts. Less procrastination, frustration, and depression.

Here is to everything

Welcoming old new things. Expecting that, yes, — life might suck, but it can also be good…somehow. We should never let ourselves held upon a box…once again. Here’s to letting go. And here’s to moving on. Here’s to never giving up for yet another year. You’re making it to how many years already…alright, keep it up! We must never surrender. Holding on? We must do it again… At least, to — Hope. We should never let ourselves be defeated by our own demons. We are making into years, and years…and years. My friends, we are doing good. Even if we don’t notice it more often…we’d find it in some of our lessons, realizations; and of course, in our writings.

The moment that we figure out what we’re trying to understand; to express what we’re trying to say.. We must know, somehow… that we are making sense out of this…ache. We write in order to understand ourselves; to understand this, — this life. The life that was given to us. We’re trying to make sense of something…and everything; or anything. Just about anything at all, just so it wouldn’t be just this; just pain. It must be something else. That…we are somehow feeling this way because we can grow something out of this; or at least, we can grow from this. So that we could grow; not taller, not prettier, not even fairer. But just grow. And to come out stronger, wiser; and kinder than ever before.

Perhaps this was a learning zone to all of us… Depression? Yes. Perhaps we could at least say goodbye to it…for now. — I wish forever. Perhaps we could leave this learning room inside of us and come out freer than ever. Better than ever. Finer than ever. Perhaps we don’t really need a big, bold word for it. But just as simple as a little better, and a little bit free — were seems to be just fine.

Here’s to another year of poetry. 

Here’s to another year of beating life, beating fate, and beating pain by making more of our poetry. Out of our very own pain given to us by Life.

Here’s to another year of success.

Success of making out into yet another year.

-Another year of this precious Life.

Author: The Realist in the Abyss

I feel like a freaking lunatic. Wandering around... not knowing who I am... or what I do. And I'm still trying to figure it all out, too. But perhaps I'll always be unknown to me; I'll always be that girl. The girl in the abyss.

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