I'll be sharing one or two stories a month. Unless I'm feeling lazy.
And as the clock strikes twelve and people in this little city begin to brighten up their, head for the streets, and make a lot of noise, part of me goes into a process of resetting. It starts with an emotional shift—ranging from excitement to anxiety, and finally warmth. It’s followed by vague thoughts of yesterday, the week, month, year, even a decade before. And it ends in an afterthought of unanswered questions and senseless episodes.
By morning, I begin to visualize the days ahead. My body is refueled with energy, and I feel an utmost need to see the glare of light outside the window. Only then do I realize that yesterday was a dream and reality just begun.
The first day of the year always gives me hope. I feel my body start over. It’s as if everything I did yesterday was something I did last year and I’ve been given a chance to start all over again—a chance to do better and to live life the way it should be lived.