this is the day your life shall surely change
this is the day when things fall into place
— The The, This Is The Day
1 Kohitātea 2019
Don’t be the same old sucker for phrases like fresh start and clean slate and new beginnings. Nothing is new. A digit on the calendar has changed. It happens every year. Today there is a 9 where yesterday there was an 8. That is all.
There’s nothing new about resolutions when you’ve already resolved to them a thousand times.
Eat healthy. Write. Go for more walks. Explore. Save money. Earn money. Draw. Write. Clean your room. Stop procrastinating. Sort your life out. Finish things that you start. Stand up straight, fix your posture. Go outside, get some sun on your skin. Use sunscreen. And start using night cream — you’re thirty. Stop killing your hair with chemicals and heat. Just leave it alone. Let it grow. Buy a houseplant. Take care of it. Keep the bloody thing alive. Stay in touch with your friends. Write. Spend more time with your family. Write. Take more photos. Write. Donate to charity. Volunteer. Get involved. Actively fight the things that make you hate the world instead of bitching about them on Twitter. Do whatever you can to make Aotearoa safer for animals. Write. Make more funny YouTube videos. Go to a comedy show. Go to a gig. Get a tattoo. Don’t drink so much. Be organised. Be tidy. Be disciplined. Be focused. Seize opportunities. Stop squandering your talents. Wise up. Keep your promises. Be kinder. Be better. Be better, be better, be better, and write.
You know the things you need to do. You’ll either do them, or you won’t. If you resolve to do nothing else in 2019, resolve to write.
Write like you’re on death row, because you are. We all are.
Write like it’s your deathbed confession and your declaration of innocence. Write like it’s 2013 and the pen is the only thing tethering you to reality. Write savagely, if you need to. Write viciously. Snarl. Scream onto the page until your throat is raw. Write in chaos. Write in misery. Write in hope. Write at midnight. Write at sunset. Write at dawn. Write in darkness and in daylight. Write in coffee shops. Write in bed. Write in your car. Write in journals. Write online. Write in terror. Write in rage. Write in bliss and joy, and in love and gratitude, because you have all that, now. If you don’t ruin everything, you could keep it. If you do ruin it, it’s your fault.
Write often. Write badly. Don’t worry about it. Just write.
Buy the plant. Keep it alive. Fix your posture. Clean your room. Sort your life out. Go for walks. Make videos. Get involved. Do all that, in 2019.
Write yourself sick. Write yourself sane. Write like no one’s reading. Even if they are, it doesn’t matter. Write ’til your wrists ache. Type your fingers to the bone. Rip yourself open and clean out what’s rotting, because it’s been five years and this is ridiculous. Write. You’re carrying it all in your blood and your bones and your bile and it’s still written on your skin in a language no one can understand, so transcribe it. Write. Maybe the posture thing would sort itself out if you could just get the tension out of your muscles.
The earth did another circle around the sun. This is not a fresh start or a clean slate or a new beginning. It’s just 2019. You’re thirty years old. You’re alive.
Resolve to write.