i. december is robin's egg blue today. it is the time of year again when you are confronted with your amber lack-of-wanting.
ii. what would you like as a holiday gift? your instinct is: more time with friends, with loved ones. you would like to close your eyes and wake up rested. you would like the sun to come back. you would like to laugh easily again. but when you think about it honestly, the rest of it - do you even have favorites?
iii. green, often. sometimes a type of food, depending on what day it is. you do like the rain, and books, and the smell of motor oil.
iv. what else? you have something else, right?
v. where are your goals? there is a solstice tradition of writing 13 wishes or manifestations on a piece of paper; slowly going through them until 1 remains. that remainder is your wish. the idea is terrifying to you. what could you possibly ask for. doesn't asking for things mean you will be disappointed?
vi. you have tried to explain this to other people. it's not like you don't have opinions - hell, you got into a longass rant about the new season of stranger things literally this week - but you don't have a future-tense. "where do you see yourself in five years" - you didn't think you'd make it to twenty-five, the rest of your life was never shaped into a real image. it's all just... fine. being here doesn't make you unhappy, but you just never really figured out the steps as to what happy even means.
vii. to want meant it could be used against you. meant it could be taken from you. meant you could be manipulated with it.
viii. besides, what would the point be? you can't change late-stage capitalism. you can want "a better job" but where exactly does one find one in this economy? the prices are only going up. if you can't fit travel into your budget now, it's not likely going to materialize in the next six months. be logical. besides, at your age, isn't wanting kind of embarrassing?
ix. thirteen things you want from the year ahead sounds almost laughable. you can't even name thirteen things you need: you've always been taught to "just be grateful there's a roof over your head." there is probably someone who actually needs thirteen things from the universe. on the off chance that this tradition actually works, you shouldn't take any of that goodness away from others. it would be selfish of you to even ask the universe, when others are more in need than you.
x. (when you were little, and praying, you used to apologize: i'm sorry. if you're busy, please ignore me and go protect sick children. god, all-powerful and infinite - he would have been so disappointed in you for wasting his time with the small things).
xi. a new year's resolution. you like making them fun, project-oriented. last year you tried more types of fruit, which was delightful. you still feel a little guilty - you were supposed to try more than you did, weren't you? even something like that: easy, applicable, delicious. even that felt like failure to you. it felt almost performative. you got the idea from the internet. it's an idea for people who want to be better. and you don't want things, you have no idea what wanting would even look like.
xii. some part of you is a small and harried child: that child is terrified that if you open the lid, the wanting will have no bottom, and it will make a black hole of desire from you.
xiii. good morning. what do you want. what do you want, really.