It's New Year's Eve and I feel as though I should do or write something meaningful. Every year since I was fifteen, I've done something that means something to me right around this time of the year and I figure, why stop? 2012 has been such an awkward year in general. I've changed (or tried to) so much of myself and yet it feels as if nothing changed and this means one of two things. Either I failed miserably at changing or I did it so well, I can barely notice it.
I bet it's the first.
One of the most important features of 2012 was how I realised I'm such a vindictive, obsessive bitch. I mean, I knew I was - but never to this extent omg. I'd be scared if it wasn't myself I'm talking about. I guess that the fact that I'm not even a little bit sorry is proof enough that yep, this is me alright.
This was such a good year. It may have not been the happiest of years but it was definitely a great one in terms of all the things I managed to make happen.
I'm good at this.
And if I was half as good at writing as I am at scheming - patience included, I'd be a published writer already.
2012 was great, but 2013 will be awesome.
