Buy this shirt: Ironmouse gem shirt, hoodie, tannk top and long sleeve tee
How about you? What percentage of your life have you spent pursuing a newer, brighter self? What are you minimizing to stay more current? How are you cutting down on your screen time? I say this every year, but it’s easier to try to pick up on something new—a hobby, a skill, people often try a language—than to scour your life for generic “bad qualities” and try to get rid of it. (I will practice parallel parking along with my skincare commitments.) I just think that life is too crowded with negative things happening — war, violence, political upheaval, climate post-disorder — so much so that the last thing you deserve is punishment. You don’t need a harsh mode when we’re going through one; You don’t have to feel guilty every time you pick up the phone, eat milk, or forget to call your mom.
All the self-exams in January turning into self-punishment can be a bit competitive, and I think we’re all part of that; we are all part of the pursuit of a pious, integral existence. I can say from the bottom of my heart that I want you to be safe and healthy, that your self-determined flaws need no correction, that we all have bad attributes, that human basic (and delectable) isn’t perfect. I can say in unison that I want my coats to look less borrowed from someone smaller and that I want to read perhaps less exhausting in half a decade. But maybe those are my own flaws when it comes to speaking? Perhaps you could ask where will you find yourself next December? Next summer? The next month? Honestly ask if there are some practical steps you can take to get there. If there’s nothing you can do, there’s nothing to ease the proceedings, and I honestly say this: Damn.
Happy New Year. It’s the 11th (flute player) day of Christmas, and the wonderful holiday season is coming to an end. A “damn!” mince pies. A “damn!” third martini. A “damn!” Uber arrives in the depths of Brooklyn at 5 a.m. At the start of a new year, we naturally look into crystal balls of our future, making the decisions that lead us to our destination. the way to the New Self. The new me is often harder, better, faster, stronger: basically old friends, with less damn things. What’s your resolution, Raven? I hear you begging. I’m inching toward the New Me; this is my first day of eating something that isn’t technically pudding for breakfast and wearing something that’s not specifically designed for sports. Last year, my resolution was to plant more palm trees—a lifestyle spell, rather than a trip to the garden center—but my husband offered to take me to the botanic house in Kew Gardens instead of visiting. Sphinx. This year, I’m once again trying to phase out sweatpants, the lockdown hangover that I can’t stay awake because the tights are too tight. I have a feeling that the Raven that I want to be wears trousers, wears more tailored clothes, does he ever like ties? But now I’m still uncomfortable with real cotton pants. I’m also learning to drive, which not only allows me to reach further palms but also feel a little Kenickie. Double win.
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