I’m not usually one for resolutions or general yearly goals. The sudden unnecessary need to pluck new aims from the air of January never quite hit me as hard as I’d hoped. I set resolutions – of course I did – but oh they were just made up for the sake of it. I’m sure I had an entire post of bookish resolutions in some form or another from last year, but while I would usually look back on that kind of thing, I’ve decided to abandon it this time. I know full well that whatever resolutions I made at that point were just made for the sake of it. I know that while they might have been interesting to me a year ago, I changed midway through the year and so those goals are probably irrelevant now.
So I started 2018 with not specific goals in mind. I’ll just aim to survive, thank you very much. Until I realised…well, I do have things I’m aiming for, they’re just vast and have been worked on for awhile already, and 2018 will simply serve to solidify them in a way. Still, now they’re set in stone on the walls of my mind, so here we are.
A frolic through fiction 