dear jess,
Ive been mooning over this letter for some weeks now. The ending or beginning of something always perplexes people to consider, reconsider, think, re-evaluate, look back and then forward. Perhaps sometimes with little point of the ever throbbing repetition of history, the same mistakes we will make, the same unachieved dreams, and the same wants of success and the blah blah’s of human cycle.
Sometimes, its difficult not to be bleak and dark when in reality our life seems so much like groundhog day. If not yours, then mine, perhaps.
In my quickie of re-evaluations I tend not to ponder on for too long, for the fear of a dip in the dark, ive come to see that in just one year ive had people closer to me than the skin on my bones, now familiar faces in a crowd of strangers. Friendship is a strange and deceiving thing. Ive always been biased to having male friends and ive realized that in my life to date ive had 3 girl pals who’ve betrayed me and my friendship. Perhaps that, in comparison to the one who has remained loyal for the last ten years makes up for the pain.
To be honest, I am empty and therefore re-evaluations and trying to be poignant just because it is the end of the year will be a failure by the end of this letter. Perhaps ive learned to be more patient in the face of accusations that I haven’t been nice enough or that ive used people or neglected many in the last year or maybe I’ve learned not to trust anyone anymore, or perhaps ive just learned to drag my legs in a world where my dreams are getting slightly bleak.
We always call Christmas a pagan festival in replacement. But I reckon God had a plan for that. Perhaps now in my evaluations, I see that no matter how you’ve failed me and how I’ve failed you, how I know the next year will be as filled with pain as joy, when I reach the end; there is hope, and that is the one single word that keeps human beings living and dreaming.
And perhaps the single hope I have for me and you this Christmas? Is that we find hope too. Bless you and as we say in my mother tongue bong natal.
Ive been mooning over this letter for some weeks now. The ending or beginning of something always perplexes people to consider, reconsider, think, re-evaluate, look back and then forward. Perhaps sometimes with little point of the ever throbbing repetition of history, the same mistakes we will make, the same unachieved dreams, and the same wants of success and the blah blah’s of human cycle.
Sometimes, its difficult not to be bleak and dark when in reality our life seems so much like groundhog day. If not yours, then mine, perhaps.
In my quickie of re-evaluations I tend not to ponder on for too long, for the fear of a dip in the dark, ive come to see that in just one year ive had people closer to me than the skin on my bones, now familiar faces in a crowd of strangers. Friendship is a strange and deceiving thing. Ive always been biased to having male friends and ive realized that in my life to date ive had 3 girl pals who’ve betrayed me and my friendship. Perhaps that, in comparison to the one who has remained loyal for the last ten years makes up for the pain.
To be honest, I am empty and therefore re-evaluations and trying to be poignant just because it is the end of the year will be a failure by the end of this letter. Perhaps ive learned to be more patient in the face of accusations that I haven’t been nice enough or that ive used people or neglected many in the last year or maybe I’ve learned not to trust anyone anymore, or perhaps ive just learned to drag my legs in a world where my dreams are getting slightly bleak.
We always call Christmas a pagan festival in replacement. But I reckon God had a plan for that. Perhaps now in my evaluations, I see that no matter how you’ve failed me and how I’ve failed you, how I know the next year will be as filled with pain as joy, when I reach the end; there is hope, and that is the one single word that keeps human beings living and dreaming.
And perhaps the single hope I have for me and you this Christmas? Is that we find hope too. Bless you and as we say in my mother tongue bong natal.
yours this year and the next,
jess
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