a timely farewell to january

you have, habitually, been the worst month. you have, habitually, decided to take everything that makes sense to me and rip it away. always, you take the things that make so much sense to me that i don't even consider life without them until you fuck them up, like the collected demeanor of my mother or the invaluable trust of my best friend or the range of motion in my dominant arm or the casual stability of having someone i think gets what i'm about or my perception of myself. don't think you can win me over with yr exceptional weather, either. i'm done with you, january.

i'm anxious for february. last year, it was pleasantly peculiar. i want it again this year. i want to have no expectations and have them surpassed times 10. but i guess that won't work; wanting to have no expectations is inherently an expectation i suppose. so i guess this is when i stop thinking and amplify the drinking and hope that i wake up with everything in order. by the summer, i'd like to do the same thing i did last year; i want to take stock of everything in my life and smile because i'm fucking happy. i want to be a college graduate with shit moderately figured out.

then, i'd like to write a post where i'm not cranky.