What would RTH do?

That is the question.

If I were in a highschool yearbook, they would vote me most likely to die of a lynch mob. That does not prevent me from opening my mouth and serving a warm hearty cup of STFU to people who deserve it. My dark scathing humor will leave no matter of existence untouched. My innocence will touch your soul.

Welcome to a warped world turned inside out and upside down. All sorts of discretion advised.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Farewell Two Oh Twelve

A year older. A year wearier. None the wiser.

Twenty twelve is just a blurb. A blink and miss flash of life that just passed on by. I look back and cannot discern beginning or end. All memories meld together in a continuum. None of them flesh out or stand out. Something within me stirs. I feel serenely happy and content. It must have been a good year. More importantly an even year. Finally, in the jarring roller coaster of life that hurls you up in the skies and tosses you down again, life has somehow hit that point where everything chugs along at an alarmingly even pace. Or perhaps I've become so used to it that even the thrills and chills and curve balls of life seem unnervingly mundane. Is this what growing up is like?

I look back at the year. I'm in Brazil. My toes dig into the warn sands of Copacabana. I stretch my arms out in front of Christ the Redeemer. I'm the King of the World! We're almost wiped out by a rogue wave at Ipanema. Everyone is cheering the Corinthians at Pacaembu stadium. I'm in Wisconsin. My fingertips claw deeper in my gloves. My arms hug myself, my body huddling within itself. I'm extremely cold. Our driveway is walled in with snow by the snowplow, again. Everyone is celebrating the New Year.

A year is such a strange thing. They seem endless and eternal, yet they buzz past you in a jiffy. You don't even know what hit you. Memories are even stranger. Sometimes so vivid, so real, surrounding you in the moment. Sometimes so distant, so foggy, leaving you grasping at nothing. How do you account for memories in a year? My taste buds recollect all the foodgasms of the year. My first filet mignon, the feijoada, the cotechino and all the wonderful flavors. My neurons recollect the drinks and hangovers. The endless shots of cacha├ža, the bottles of beer, the glasses of wine and everything in between. My thoughts strains my brain process trying to remember all that I've experienced, strain my brain for the memories. The birthdays, the arguments, the makeups, visiting family and games of 304. There's also accomplishments like a hundred movies, team trivia, biking through summer and conquering high point hill. 


Now I'm standing at the ending. I'm also standing at the beginning. Twenty twelve is in the past now. Twenty thirteen lies ahead of me. I'm at the junction of past, present and future. Then again, isn't every of life that pivotal juncture. Either way I forlornly look back. I excitedly look ahead. What goals will I set myself in twenty thirteen? What resolutions will I shackle myself to and break free? What lies around the corner? I look forward to the new memories I will create. I ponder what will come, what I will learn and what I will experience. 

Who am I? Why am I here? Where am I going? 

Is this real life? Will you come with me?

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