As the clock struck midnight for another year and the fireworks filled the skies, an atmosphere of celebration throughout a half-wasted South Australia continued. Excitement for this fresh start begun to loom throughout the masses as their unconscious alcohol filled brains analysed their lives and laid out flimsy plans full of commitments to change things that they defined as ‘shit’ within themselves.
When January 1 struct, the plan to make things perfect from the very beginning were forgone and while the definitive milestone landed – and the masses screamed it from the megaphones called tweets and statuses, the bench near popular beaches, and at house parties across the nation – very few preachers actually acted upon them.
“Oh, My, God… 2018 is totally going to be my year!” one verified user drunkenly tweets.
“This year just feels soooooo great already. Like I’m clean of all the shit that happened to me in 2017.” yells a teen before going skinny dipping with five strangers.
“This year will be amazing for you and me, you just wait and see!,” I drunkly messaged my mate at 12.15am on Facebook.
These broken records scratching stereotypes spouting from the yappers of young twenty-something adults – and me – marked not even our achievement, but rather the incredible achievement of planet earth as it fulfilled its momentous rotation circuit anniversary. But we all decided that after 5 beers, 3 shots, 2 mixers and a dream journal, that we were going to take all the credit.
I’m not complaining, I did that all this morning when I woke up with a headache screaming ahhhhh, but merely making an observation. Don’t wait around for the earth to do something routine to justify taking action. Just fucking start it right now – and seeing as it’s January 1, be prepared for the “How long will that last” jokes.
Happy New Year everyone! Hope you all have an amazing year and best of luck with your resolutions. Make your drunk plans come true and be the person you’ll drunkingly cheer for on December 31st.