Fuck 2016. No, really. Fuck 2016!

You know, as years go, 2016 was a motherfuck. Seriously, we lost so many great people. Prince, Muhammad Ali, Phife Dawg (A Tribe Called Quest), Leonard Cohen, Alan Rickman, David Bowie, Anton Yelchin, Gene Wilder, the list is too extensive to complete. We lost our collective minds and elected Donald J. Trump President of the United States of Dumbfuckistan. I thought 2015 was bad, but 2016 said, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

I try not to be a pessimist, but since I suffer from depression and acute stress disorder, it’s often hard to see the proverbial cup as “half full.” I can only hope that 2017 will be a little bit better. One good thing is I’ll be turning 39. That’s good because my oncologist told me when I was diagnosed with cancer at age 25, that I probably wouldn’t live to see 35 much less 40. 2017 will be a year of new beginnings for me. If Trump’s win did anything, it inspired me to do everything I want to do while I still can. Don’t ask me why. It might be because I feel a sense of ominous danger and within that space, a compulsion to write, to express myself. Within that space, I feel a sense of urgency. It’s kind of riveting in a strange way. Riveting and scary.

So, I decided to get cracking on my New Year’s Resolutions early. The hard part about resolutions is that people have too many. They seem insurmountable and intimidating. But they don’t have to be. So, I’m going to keep mine very simple. I will try to be a better person each new day than I was the day prior. I think I can stick to that. It definitely involves writing a lot more and getting out of the house more often. I have friends I haven’t seen in years. It’s time I look them up.

It’s hard, but I’m going to commit myself to being positive. I will try to see the brighter side of things. I know I will backslide, but if I keep at it, it will become like second nature. I’m going to be easier on myself. My biggest bad habit is that I beat myself up way too much over small things. I’m human and I’m prone to make mistakes. I will work hard at forgiving myself of all my sins and shortcomings.

Consistency is the key.

I don’t have to be perfect or write the greatest magnum opus. I will be happy for a story that makes a modicum of sense. I will be proud of my accomplishments instead of comparing myself to others. I am only in competition with the man I was yesterday. I will grow and I will learn and I will enjoy the journey.

2017, I tell you this only once. Don’t you ever try to fuck me. But even if you do, I will get back up, look you square in the eyes and say, “Is that all you got? You hit like a bitch.”

Stay safe everyone.

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About roninliterati

Ronin Literati is Harold Fisher, formerly known as Obi Adisa Asad (sometimes, still known as this–long story), also known as Fish. I’m a writer living in Los Angeles. My dream is to become a successful science fiction/fantasy writer. I also write this blog when I remember. Thanks for coming with me on this wild ride. If you want to reach me, you can send me an email at roninliterati@gmail.com.

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