it is a funny time of year, the older i get the more it becomes another cycle of artifice. you want to believe. you want to believe in new beginnings, in the closing of chapters, in some greater structure than the randomness of everyday life. that if you meditate, reflect, squint hard enough, you’ll see the design and you will be able to trace it, follow it, see where it all leads. no guarantee that it would bring you comfort, but at the very least, you’d be able to make sense of it all.