We've always made great pets, Perry, but that will soon change.

I know, by the reference to which I have grown accustomed during my short time in this form, that another calendar year has drawn to a close. As per custom, many of us will reflect on another year laid to rest and fancy some resolutions for the one that begins anew. Me, I wonder if we're to navigate through more of the same shit as we did last year and repeat this exercise annually until we die, or if this will be the year that things start to happen. Come to think of it, things happen all the time, so perhaps it is foolish to wish for "things to start to happen". Certain things more than others, I suppose: could they already be happening and we're just unaware of them?

For many of us, today is the day we set ourselves up with lofty expectations for what ought to happen this evening: some will spend the day frantically making plans; others will wallow in pity knowing they have none. Ultimately, all parties will awake tomorrow morning with the realization - however cruel or kind it may be - that the worries and trepidations of last evening don't matter all that much. We should only be so lucky to have the luxury to worry about such trivial matters, as we have warm homes in which to worry and food in our bellies while we worry. We should be so lucky to have only our evening plans and our resolutions for the new year about which to worry: how many of us worry whether we will even live to see the evening or the new year, let alone make plans for them?

I harbour a quiet disdain for these holidays, for they seem to serve as instructions for mass consumption, while lost in the shuffle is the misery felt by many who aren't included in the dance. I know, it's only a day on some arbitrary calendar and I ought not to be lumbered by it, but alas, I cannot help but be consumed by equal parts sorrow and irritation. I think about the people very dear to me, myself included, who did not meet the standards required to be part of the "in" crowd - whatever that may be; even those who were rejected by the "in" crowd managed to forn their own "in" crowd - and while I feel I have come to see this farce for what it is, sometimes I feel left out, not welcome, even invisible. So it goes.

I hope, one day, the very notion of the "in" crowd will surcease, for we are all "in" something together, and that something is a world of shit. The new Year of our Lord 2009 will be a tumultuous one, during which a lot of our core beliefs will be turned on their respective ears. There stands a fantastic chance that by year's end, we will all be in the wilderness, beaten and cold and seemingly alone, stripped of the veneer to which we cling. My friends, we're only alone if we convince ourselves such is the case, for however lonely one might feel at a given time, that loneliness is shared by everyone, so when the time comes and we're standing in the wilderness, we will be standing there together and will have each other.

The doom and gloom on the horizon is only in our heads. In an earlier entry, I forecasted the coming of the end of money, though I feel it to be more of a hope than a prediction. A wise man told me the dawn of the great spiritual awakening is imminent: perhaps a total collapse of our economic model to which we are slaves is necessary for this "golden age" to enter fruition; as much as I hate to say it, perhaps something needs to happen on a global scale to indicate to the masses that no, everything is not fine, and that retreating to our respective coccoons is no longer an option. The time is upon us when we will no longer have to behave as someone's pets, performing each day for treats to take home with us. (To this day, my school is shut down by a strike, and I'm wondering if I even want to return to class, if I should even bother trying to graduate, for I feel the cardinal lesson I've learned is how to ascertain grades. Nevertheless, how many people will be able to afford post-secondary education next year and the years beyond?) Fuck grades. Fuck dollars. Fuck status. Fuck apppearance. They will mean nothing anymore.

It seems I can count on my trusty web log to resurrect my alacrity. Just yesterday, I wondered if I ought to continue living, given our rotten state of affairs and lack of any sign that things will improve. Today, I see that glimmer of hope again way over yonder on the horizon, and with it has returned a desire to live and be of service. Whether or not I will be part of this great awakening in this form, I cannot say, but this isn't about me: it's about us.

There is a line from a song by The Kinks that I feel is apt for this occasion:

I can't go on this way;
There's a new world
just opening for me.

There is a new world opening for all of us.

Mahalo.