Every year, I have a long list of New Year Resolutions, and sometimes, for reasons I have not yet deciphered, I would write "not exhaustive" at the end of the list, and as the world chants "3, 2, 1!" I would be sitting in my room, staring at my non-exhaustive list and ticking them off one by one. Even those resolutions that I didn't write down on paper, I would tick them off in my mind. And if I don't get all of them ticked, disappointment is just the beginning of a long long time of "why couldn't I do that?". And the cycle goes on.
This year, I sat there again, staring out into the dark night. It's quite unfortunate that in this megacity that we live in, starry nights are so rare, so far away, so unheard of. So I stared into the dark sky, lit up by artificial lights (street lamps and lights from all the households eagerly awaiting the turn of a new year), and thought about my resolutions this year.
I thought about how many people have come up to me and told me that I didn't have "a life", how I shouldn't be so uptight, and how I should relax. And they were right. I really don't have a life. Sad, but true.
And so I tore the blank piece of paper in front of me. I'm not going to have any resolutions this year.
And what I thought was a strike of genius and an initiative to change my life for the better shortly proved to be a desperate attempt of mine to try and convince myself that I do have a life, or at least that I'm gonna have a life this year. As I lay in bed that night, just 1h after I made my New Year Resolution: To have NO Resolutions, I tossed and turned and thought about how having no resolutions was so risky and how it seems so "I-don't-care". And everyday after that day, I thought about my having no resolutions. And I worried.
Clearly, my "No Resolutions Plan" has failed, but now, as the first month of my supposedly groundbreaking new year comes to a close, I have made up my mind. I will have New Year Resolutions this year. But just one will do.
This year, I'll be
Happy.
