2023: Everything That Comes to Mind

December 26, 2023

I've been a vegetable. I haven't done much since the break started and relaxing hasn't been going well. It's okay. I return to a new Obsidian page. My younger laptop-ridden self isn't surprised.

So, what are we here to write about?

I've never written one of these before. 2023 has been seminal, remarkably so. I turned 18, and next year I'll be 19. The scary, ominous age that was so far away, and you managed not to kill yourself (at the mercy of clumsiness and bad luck) before you got to live it.

One hundred thirty thousand minutes on Spotify, feeling emotions that my (failed) stoic self had to manage, reconciling personhood. A theme for this year is the embodiment of a developing pre-frontal cortex. I still take forever to make decisions, and when I do, they aren't the best.

If you mean a lot to me, I probably have an especially hard time communicating that to you. Resultingly, and indirectly, I have done so many things that would fall under the umbrella of "cringe," but apparently, this is what adolescence is about. It's unfortunate(?) you can't speed-run this part.

I got some notes from people in the middle of October. I got them during midterm season, and they were so cute. I cried, smiled and reminisced. At that point, the sun was distant from the cold Montreal winter, but all the warmth came back. Okay, I'll stop with the bad poetry...

I'm studying mainly math and CS. We'll see how long this lasts, but it's less about saying that I am and deciding that this is something I want. I faked it until I believed it; now, let's see if I can make it. I very well may change my mind because there is something else more worthwhile to study, or I continue with the reasoning that you should take classes and not "do a program."

As this year comes to an end, I realize I (became) am especially sappy. I realized that the kid you used to hate for crying made you the person who can now be a shoulder to cry on, even though you'll often start crying in parallel. It will give you some ability to be a shoulder you'll want to have for others, whenever.

You'll also realize that walks home alone are beautiful, even when you're in pain, in the happiest mood, or get a bad mark. It will be a beautiful thing when you wish you were with someone. It will be beautiful even when the people on the street annoy you because they walk too slowly. It will be beautiful when the street is one you haven't been to before. Like the streets near the school that you're going to or the streets of Brooklyn that are so pretty. It will be beautiful in a different way when they're familiar.

You'll realize that one piercing was a gateway to wanting more. You'll poorly convince yourself not to get them. You'll still push the boundaries of conformism because it's not like you were going to do this conformity thing very well anyway.

You'll realize that the year was chaptered in the seasons. Pre-summer, summer, and post-summer. Being present is really important, and you should make an active effort to be it. Sleep more and prioritize some health things so that you can figure that out.

You'll realize that your sense of identity is finally forming, and you don't need permission to try and find her. At the very least, some version of it. You'll realize this means you could take responsibility for the traits you appreciate in yourself but also the ones you hate. You'll realize that you care about people, that you really care about what people think.

You'll realize that some of these opinions are ones you care about, because you really respect the people they're coming from. You'll realize that the teleological approach works best here. Their anger isn't the end all be all, nor is their approval, but rather what they as people represent and what that means in the context of your decisions. As you type this part, you'll realize it is especially abstract because you haven't internalized much of this yet; you seek validation pretty strongly.

You'll realize that taking a tiny plot of space on the internet was the best thing you could do. It would allow you to relive moments, remember what you remember, and save these personal artifacts we call a blog. You'd write differently once you realized you were making these snapshots of your blemished mind. I don't have analytics set up on this new version of the site. I'll get a message or comment here and there, and that's more than enough.

You'll realize that this thing called beauty is so real. It's the people you meet, the things you'll see and the way it feels when you're remembering it all.

You'll remember the beautiful things you've witnessed. You'll realize that you couldn't, wouldn't, and sometimes shouldn't call them beautiful.

This realization of beauty will often happen in retrospect when you're alone. You'll waste a lot of time yearning, but you'll earn some time in the future (or maybe this is a wish). You'll realize that these beautiful things were things you could chase, albeit not all of them should be. But they don't have to come to you in passivity. Many of these beautiful things would be memories, many outside and very scenic; some were quieter and maybe hit the hardest.

You'll realize that beautiful isn't the best word here, but you lack the maturity to identify the adjective, verb, emotion(?) it should be replaced with.

You'll realize you were wrong, dumb, stupid, bitter, unfair, lost. You'll (mostly) apologize. I'll say it now that even if sometimes you were the one who lost, the story is better when you stand in pain with your head high, but I guess it's okay that it sometimes drops. You'll realize that noticing these wrongs involves figuring out what is "right." You'll realize this growth is uncertain, but you hope it lasts with all the future wrongs that come with that.

You'll realize that there are these open threads that you've (largely) left open at your own discretion. Unsure whether to tend to them, they'll add to the spice of life for the time being.

You'll realize that when learning new (technical) things, there aren't shortcuts, and there's some intuition behind knowing when you even "understand" or like the levels to it. You'll realize you've taken how and what you understand for granted.

Finally, as you type this out, you'll realize you have a lump in your throat. You're (a little) melodramatic, and it's not that deep, but it's cute to act like it is. It's cute in a way that you will find unbearable in the future. The words here are vague but they serve as (simplified) captions for all the flickers of rememberance roaming your mind.

A New Year's Day is arbitrary, but you'll realize maybe this was the first year that you really lived. You'll realize that even though parts were intense in not-so-great ways, there were (many) weeks where you did nothing, some parts were truly great. Many were ephemeral (love this word).

You're looking forward to the privilege of taking a shot at this thing again for another 365 days.

An arbitrary number, within the construct of time, and maybe you'll (get the chance to) write one of these again, too.

She'll realize she's a little nervous to post this but is doing so for a reason. I love how much I loved this (imperfect) year. I love the people I met (again), the ideas I was exposed to, and the new wrinkles in my brain that have unlocked some heightened levels of qualia (lmao).

So fire.