New Year, the yearly embarrassment

The first day of the year compounds the embarrassment of ordinary existence.

Perched on the threshold of every new year, I dread to look ahead or back. It's a pointless effort as the scenes on both sides are identical.

Every new year, I drown deeper in inertia, and time, mockingly, whizzes past me. The changing dates and the calendar tell a story of now and here, and I stay stuck to the then and there.

Every new year is an account of gluttony, mediocrity, vanity and frivolity. 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 or 2019…the ‘new’ factor is not in my reach...