Nobody goes near her. She’s a desert island in a sea of commuters.
I admire her bravery. Standing in Government Square wearing that sign – if she’s not brave, she’s mad.
So it’s not I’m not sympathetic to her cause. I wouldn’t risk watching her otherwise. But while I admire her principles, the ways she behaves scares me. She follows her own mind rather than chemically induced, government-prescribed sedation. Why does she seem so unhappy and so angry?
I inspect the pill I didn’t swallow at breakfast and sigh. I hope for greater resolve at lunchtime. Or tomorrow. Or next week.
Like a clean slate, it seems full of new beginnings and endless possibilities. You might use your gym membership, drink less, start a company and take charge of your fate. Or something else you haven’t foreseen.
You sit down with a blank sheet of paper and pick up a pen that’s been waiting to be used for so long, it dried up in the meantime. Remember the last time you sat here, brimming with ideas for the new you? In between then and late January, you ditched the lot.
How about you deem the old you good enough this year?