I concluded a letter at 6:01 pm last night.
I taped the pages shut this morning.
It was a message to my future self. The words to be read at the close of 2018.
Shaped as a conversation between two wanderlusting individuals, I asked myself questions following a certain stream of consciousness:
Who will I be? What music will my feet move to? What food will I have tried making and photographing? Will I have traveled the way that I have planned for this year?
I wrote down all the songs I listened to yesterday. Weaving the doings of my last 2017 moments among the words. A final dream, a last wish, an ultimate thought.
I reflected on my goals, outlining a list of 10 things I hope to learn:
- To speak German. Perhaps not fluently, but carrying on less than broken small talk.
- To make angel food cake successfully.
- To post regular blog posts.
- Paint. Mostly oil and acrylic.
- Scrapbook my travels. Starting with Hawaii and Vegas in high school.
- To manage my time. To keep from rushing at the last moment.
- Grow plants in a community garden. Likely at the school down the street.
- Play Zelda and/or Skyrim. My friends will help.
- To play the piano. Specifically Piano Sonata No. 14 (Moonlight Sonata).
- Take pictures of myself, and develop self-love further from that.
I dedicated a page to my intentions. Defined as my plans and aims for the coming months, I decided to pack away the idea of resolutions. Resolution is a word that hold finality and closure to me. In the course of this year, I already envision that my aim will morph and evolve, with relevance to the goals I have formed now.
The recorded words are hidden, but nevertheless guiding me so that I wander in the new year, but not altogether aimlessly.