This is my first post for the year. I wanted to write something deep and poignant but I’m still recovering from the two week drink binge I had up north in that wonderful place where tropical fruit is free and mosquitoes bite like their lives depended on it (it does BTW). I’m not as excited as everybody else is about the new year, never really understood why the rest of humanity gets excited about the change in the Gregorian calendar. From the looks of things, it looks like this year will be the same as the others. I didn’t bother with New years resolutions, goals or plans. Which is a bad thing, I know. I’m just in a twisted frame of mind right now, where I let my impulses dictate my life’s direction. Besides last year, planning for shit only left me bitter and disappointed, not planning for shit can’t be that bad.
In a week’s time I’m returning to work, I’m not really looking forward to it. Last year I was in a euphoric spirit, I was coming out of a long period of depression and the therapy I took left me with such an optimistic outlook on life that even the major problems I had with my finances didn’t damper my spirit. I have a feeling that those days are coming to an end. Since November, my old grouchy self has been making cameo appearances, it’s only a matter of time ’til he regains the lead role again.
Ever since I can remember, I have always loved the feeling of being naked outdoors. I won’t go as far as calling myself a nudist, but I just love being naked, I never pass an opportunity to go skinny dipping. I will never understand why society is offended by nudity but I respect people enough to keep my pants on most of the time. I recently uploaded tasteful photos of me “skinny dipping” on facebook and I got vilified for them. My inbox is flooded with people telling me that being naked = not respecting your body, which I find ridiculous but since I lost the ability to give a rat’s nut about what people think of me. I didn’t bother replying to the messages.