Indolence - Tis' the Season

There’s something insidious and subversive at the End of each year. Everything slows…comes to a halt – all false misconceptions. Vastness of space and ambience of tranquillity greets you with a straight face. There is nothing to do (on the surface) but to accept its kind benevolence, only to be flayed and knifed - come next year. We view the entire backlog and remain optimistic – there is always Time. Come next year, and I will accelerate.

With experience, we know we cannot afford a moment of Procrastination – we do it nonetheless. Blame it all on the Falsehood of the season – The End of the Year. Thought to be a time for recuperation, we soothe the nerve, relax the muscle, immobilise the joints, fill the belly, and consume Idleness with delight. Come next year – we cannot even hold our foot on the accelerating pedal.

Irony, irony. When I was younger, a full 3 months would come and go before I add 1 to update the year when writing the date for school work, perhaps a week will pass before the straight, rigid, uncompassionate contour of the pencil warms up to me…

It so tempting to believe that there is a margin separating now and the next, but it’s a creation, at best. Fluidity of the days passing, discriminating none from now and the next, excruciating continuum.

The End of the Year, the season of bafflement and indulgences. The season to hibernate only to be quickly, rashly jerked into action – come Next year. But, while it lasts, I shall reap the joys of Indolence.