Today is Christmas Eve, Sunday, December 24, 2023.
I say this and I also understand this might be obvious to you or to someone else out there in the universe who might choose to read this entry.
At the same time, I want to recognize the date.
I want to recognize the time and the weather, which is currently gray and, for now, the streets are mainly quiet. My little side of suburbia is modest and the streets are mainly uneventful at the moment.
The light rain is a mixture of soothing and matching for the morning. I can say this is both matching and soothing for the mood and as for me, I am armed with my cup of coffee.
Of course, I am.
This cup is a special blend. However, I have grown fond of a Cuban blend known as Café con Leche which is a little magic “Wake-me-up,” potion that I use to get myself up and ready to go.
I mix this with a cup of hot cocoa, which is a great combination and for the time at hand, this is a great way for me to start this morning.
I am alone now, at least this is my status for the time being. As for today or the day itself, I have always had an odd relationship with this time of year. Christmas and I have a strange history together, which I am open to changing. Better yet, this is my goal.
I have never been completely comfortable around the holiday season yet there is a hope which I have. Of course, there are dreams which is what I’ve come to speak with you about.
I have a picture that I would like to share with you.
The picture itself is simple really. I have barred all confusion and interpersonal complications for this event. Instead, I want this to act as a means of inspiration. I want this to be like the emotions I have when sifting through my old family pictures.
I want this to be like the feeling I have when seeing the photos of my relatives when they were young and/or before I was alive.
I have this moment in my heart. I have a few sentiments that I would like to share with you, especially now because as I reach out to you, I am doing this from a modest perspective. There are no bells or whistles. There is no grand form of technology. No, this is more of an older form of communication, which is still highly useful.
What I want to share with you comes from the deepest section of my heart. And I mean this with all that I have. I can see this. In fact, I can see this as clearly as you can see these words that I write to you.
I have this pictured in my mind, so vividly or perfectly and as I envision this, I would like to unfold this vision for you. I would like you to close your eyes for a second. Take a deep breathe and for this, i think I’ll need a little cooperation from your imaginary spirit.
(Okay?)
Imagine we are at a desk.
Imagine I am about to show you this like an architect would unfold a blueprint to a builder.
Can you see it this way?
Allow me to unfold and open these blueprints to show you this as a plan for the future.
As I open this to you, allow your internal vision to see this as clearly as ever.
I am sending this to you with hopes to build this vision together. I have sharpened my pencil because these are my master drawings. This is my hope. These are the details and this is what I want to build.
Of course, this is all open and welcoming to your input because this is not just about “me” per se.
No, that would be all too self-serving. I don’t want it this way.
I want this to be both reciprocal and mutually beneficial.
Now, before I go on, please allow me to explain these blueprints in a very basic way.
I have heard people say, “This time next year.”
I heard this a lot when I was younger and in the sanctuary of a religious institution.
I understand that while today is equally a religious day or on the verge of; still, my reason for saying “this time next year” is not religious at all.
But more, and for a similar reason to the saying’s intention – this blueprint is my bridge towards peace. This is my hope. These are my designs to build the castles in my dreams which are changing now – decorations and all, lighting, bedrooms, guestrooms, and family rooms too.
This blueprint is elaborate and vast.
But I am open to changes or feedback. I am open because this plan is still growing and I am still learning how to draw this in a better or more descriptive way.
I am humble now, like a child who has yet to learn the language or is unable to understand.
At the same time, I am not a child by any means.
I have the ability to inquire and the ability to communicate. I have the ability to decipher between helpful and unhelpful or right and wrong. I am not a child by any means yet I have said this before and it’s time for me to say this again. We are always childlike, especially when facing something so new and so big.
I am no child but I am new to this craft.
At the same time, I have the ability to understand my conscience and yes, I have the benefit of hindsight, experience and growing more and more, I have the ability to recognize my strengths as well as the areas in which I need to improve.
That’s what I’m doing. right here and right now.
More than humbling myself and allowing this to be spread out across the ethos or to be subject to the critics, or be subject to the judgments of the universe, I am posting this entry as truthfully and a modestly as I can without any mask or shield or decoration to hide behind.
Imagine the desk again.
Picture as I open up the plans and spread this out on the desk. You lean in to see what the plans look like so that you can catch a glimpse of this vision and see this for yourself.
This time next year . . .
When I say this, I do not mean that we will be somewhere or right here, this time next year.
No, I mean this is my wish for what I would like to see, “this time next year.”
Envision me in a builder’s outfit and you as well.
Picture this in the core of a house that has only begun to build.
See the wooden studs around us and picture the areas where the windows would be.
See that over there?
That’s where the stairs would be.
See that?
So, if we were to build something together, like say, a future – then I would like you to imagine this.
Imagine the blueprint is our master drawing which we are going to use as a means to build a life, an empire, a dream, a fantasy – or by any means, this is our way to build a bridge that will allow us to reach that place in our life.
By this I mean that special place where there’s no more irrational fears.
There’s no more resentment.
There’s no more unnecessary worries or relentless bargaining in our minds that deceive us.
So, this time next year –
I want to be somewhere at a place on Clocks Boulevard, which is not a real place to me at all.
But in the same breath, I acknowledge that this is a very real place.
Very real, indeed.
This is about a picture of a house that I saw.
It’s a dream I have.
That’s all it is . . .
This time next year means that yes, I’d like to be here.
At the same time – this is just a physical embodiment of a picture and a place that I’ve allowed myself to think about.
I am open to the subjects of change.
However, I use this place as a selected idea to build a visionary statement of my own.
I hold this vision close so that I can allow my vision to take shape and to give myself a fantasy that is worthy enough of my heart and my desire, as well as my blood, sweat and tears, which are the main ingredients that it takes to make anything happen.
This time next year –
I’d like to see this chapter in the past and to look back and say, look at what we went through and next, I could point out, “look at where we are now.”
This time next year –
No more battles.
The old arguments and disputes can be sealed and forgotten.
Who left who?
Who said what?
Who did what?
Who went left instead or right?
All of this will be gone.
No more reasons to fight about the past or argue over what took place.
No more looking back to discern who did what or whose fault it was or is or anything like that.
This time next year –
I’d like to wake up to a white Christmas.
I’d like to wake up to a home.
I’d like to wake up and hear the heat pushing through the radiators, as if to act as a reminder that yes; it might be winter outside but hey, at least it’s warm in here.
I’d like to wake up to the chore of putting wood in a fireplace.
I could make coffee for us . . .
I could get dressed and run out for some breakfast.
In fact, I have an idea of what I might wear – a cable knit sweater, off-white in color, a turtleneck and I could put on my jeans and a pair of boots to keep my feet dry and warm from the snow.
I never wear jackets much, but I can see me with a scarf – maybe?
Maybe a plaid of red and black, just to fit the reason for the season.
I could head out in the whiteness of that snow-covered morning and head over to the bagel place or maybe something like that.
I could come back to the easiest idea of all, which is there are no plans that need our direct attention and for the moment, the only priority is to enjoy our breakfast together – maybe we could sit by the Christmas tree.
We could put on the television and watch some of the old classic movies.
We could watch It’s A Wonderful Life to remind us that this is the season for giving; but more, this is a time where we are together for a reason. I want us to see this and know that life is filled with surprises and that this moment (even this one now, which is taking place as you read this with your builder’s uniform on), this is moment is far more valuable and greater than we think.
This time next year –
I do not know what awaits me. I don’t know what tomorrow brings and, as always, the world is mixed with various satisfactions and bouts of sadness.
Not everything will fall into place.
But not everything will fail either.
Hence, this is why I have come up with this master blueprint – this is to act as a guideline, which is not to say there won’t be changes or adjustments.
Of course, there will be.
Changes and adjustments are only human because even the best laid plans are subject to change.
Either way, this time next year –
I’d like to see us where we are supposed to be.
I’d like to see us happy, content and satisfied with no doubts, no regrets, and lastly – this time next year, I’d like to wake up on this very morning and think to myself that yes – everything does happen for a reason.
While the reasons for the things that happen might not always be clear or reveal themselves to us right away, and while our efforts to get us to where we need to be will not always be easy or flawless – at least we’re here.
At least we’ll be better. At least we’ll be happier – that is, of course, we will be if I get my wish.
I want us to be exactly where we are supposed to be.
This time next year –
I have always had an odd relationship with this time of year.
But who knows?
Maybe “this time next year,” all of that will change,
at least that’s my hope.
This is my Christmas wish.
And don’t worry.
I called up Santa and asked if it was okay to share this wish with you.
You know the deal, right?
They say never say what you wish for because it might not come true.
So, I asked Santa if it was okay. Just in case.
He never returned my call, which is fine.
But somehow, I don’t think Santa would mind on this one.
So, let’s get back to that blueprint of ours
this time next year . . .
I have to go now.
I need to sent this out into ethos . . .
Plus, I have to head over to the gym for some of my self-care and more, I suppose another wish I have for me is to have better abs this time next year.
I want to look better baked . . .
Plus, I have an apartment to clean. I have a blueprint to perfect and a year to make this happen.
So, in fairness – I promise to do everything I can on my end.
This is my blueprint.
This is what I want to build.
The rest is up to you.
The Written Addiction 