In numerology they say that your personal year is different from the universal year. Therefore, your personal year only starts from the moment you complete another birthday. For instance, this year, 2010, the universal year is defined by the number 3, while my personal year is defined by the number 5. Now, this number 5 means a lot of things and I actually have a definition of how my personal year should work out. But that's beside the point, what I'm trying to say here is that my personal year will only start after my birthday, which is in March.
If you believe in numerology or not, I have to say this thing about the personal year and your birthday pretty much always seems to apply to me. Like, this last personal year I have been living since March 2009 is absolute crap. This crappiness results of a number 22, whatever it means, but that also seems to be a very powerfull number, not always inclining towards good things. Amen to that.
On a happy note, this crappy year is very, very close to be done with, and as it couldn't stop happening, things that will make my new personal year great are already set in motion, so that after March, the general crappiness of life decreases to an irrelevant level, allowing me to move on with my plans.
You may think I'm crazy. I wouldn't blame you for that, after all this numerology ramble. But I have proof to attest, if not to numerology's credibility, at least to the change in my life for the good.
I have already schedueled my driving lessons that will take place between February 18th to march 2nd. After those, I'll have practical lessons and then take the exam to get my license. (About time too, since I'm nearing my 23rd birthday, wouldn't you say?)
Also to contribute with the progress towards a better life, I have now gotten a new job! That's right! You can celebrate with me, take this moment to raise your arms in the air and do an akward little dance while still sitting in your chair. You can deal with people staring at you later.
I am now going to work at an english school downtown, taking care of their resourse center. It's almost a dream job. The hours are great, the job is great, the place is great, etc, etc, etc. So, I'm pretty happy about this too. I start there in March.
It's all coming together to allow me to achieve my dreams, that's how it feels. I'll tell you I got this feeling while walking home the other day and I just couldn't help this big smile in my face. People were looking at me and smiling too, probably wondering what had me so happy.
Now, will you agree with me about my theory? That the new year starts for me this next month? I hope you do. And just to let you know, the number 5 means, at least according to this old numerology book I own, that 2010 shall bring me an unsettling feeling that will push me towards changes, this being a great year to travel, change or do something different. It can be an exciting year, full of diversity, changes and progress.
If that's not a great prospect, I don't know what is.
Anyway... I wanted to post a text I found the other day, but now I wonder if I haven't already written too much. Should I just keep typing or maybe post it later? Ah... decisions, decisions... let me try it.
Ok, I just tried and it looks like a big enough post, but I figure you guys deserve something remotelly interesting to read after all this ramble, so here it goes:

I breathe in and you breathe out, and I've been wishing you well since the day you were born; hoping that you were kissing all the wrong mouths and moving in all the proper directions to get to me, every slight of your hand has moved you closer to me. Every moment you lost someone you loved, every girl you've broken and who has broken you, every lost tooth and skinned knee and long night, every haircut and chest cold, every stranger you spoke to and every stranger that you never got a chance to speak to, every new friend on an airplane, new enemy on the playing field, every broken bone and busted blood vessell, and pair of shaking hands, every sleeping bag, old t-shirt, cliff, mountain and crack in the cement, every leap you took, every chance you missed, every bad morning and every hangover; every fight with your father and every time you made your mother cry, every letter you've received and every prank you've pulled, every prescription filled, and the pills you didn't swallow. All of the places you've seen, the melted snow, the bloody noses, the people you've missed, the religion you lost, the whispers you've uttered, the black eyes, the akward silences, the airplane trails in the sky, the pollution, the paragraphs you spoke, the books you didn't read, the dirty water, the hand-me downs, the times you've been caught, the games of rock paper scissors, the stray hairs, the upset stomachs, the trouble with the fbi, the ink stains, the exposed negatives, the shattered lenses, the long exposures, the stomach in your throat, the moments of skin on skin, the lonely freckles, all of the bad songs, the drunk ex-girlfriends, the indigestion, the dogwood flowers, the bruises, the burns, the blisters, the songs on repeat, the scars on your hands from every mistake you've ever made, have brought you here, to me, to this moment suspended in time. Finally.

So I liked this a lot, but I don't know who wrote it. If you do, let me know.
Bye dears...


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