New year, new me, new weight, new hair, new make-up, that new Zara jacket, new leather Vans, new value system…
Each year we recreate ourselves, or at least attempt to, that is just a fact of life. It’s mostly just an excuse to overspend on things we will never ever use, like gym memberships and a sixty-pound matte Mac lipstick in the shade of “Stargazing Wolverine”.
Personally speaking, there is a health centre with all sorts of fancy fitness machines and contraptions less than five blocks away from my house. I could count the amount of times I have entered it on the fingers of my right hand. But I won’t, because it’s zero. They scare me more than “Game of Thrones” torture devices, because at least I’ve seen those in use and am quite confident in the extent of my knowledge. I cannot say the same about gyms. They haunt my dreams. The people walking around look like they are strong enough to break you in half, and glance over with that “yeah, you won’t be this for a while, babe, dream on” look in their eye.
Now, before you start the inspirational talks about life and positivity and how it’ll make me feel like a butterfly in a field of amazing pink flowers, buzzing around… Wait, bees buzz… Butterflies don’t buzz. Do they? They don’t.
Anyway, before you start that, let me just tell you I’d much rather be having a nice walk at one o’clock in the morning, when the streets are empty (except for the occasional hooded figure that you avoid at all costs by awkwardly hiding behind tree branches). That’s one of the ways I’ll change myself this year. I’ll take walks. People underestimate their power. But then again, people know nothing about people, otherwise we’d be a perfect society.
If you don’t believe me, give it a try. Put a couple layers on, headphones blasting thoughtful indie music, and you’re good to go for a little soul trip. The final step is buying a vintage Volkswagen van to roll across North America with. Preferably blue, but I could settle for orange or green, not too picky as long as it doesn’t break down on me. Not out of McDonald’s reach anyway.
Maybe one day, maybe next year, when I’m recreating myself yet another time. I’ll ball out on a car and go with the flow for a while, take pictures of stuff, write blogs about them, too. Take walks at midnight and throw Mac lipsticks at wildlife in Nebraska.
Until then, I’ll give you a tune to listen to, my darlings, because… Well, frankly, because I can and because I feel like it, and because you have no choice. I think you’ll like it, let me know! The song is by Florence & The Machine – “What Kind of Man”.
Until next time, stay lovely!