2005 - reflections

[illusionofjoy]

"Happy New Year," they say. At least you can't argue with that – unless you prefer the Gregorian, Hebrew or Chinese calendars. I suppose that the Christians can chalk that up as a win – their calendar being the one used to demarcate cycles around the sun (albeit, one that needs to be adjusted for every four years). They still have a ways to go until they get everyone saying, "Merry Christmas" instead of "Happy Holidays," however. Those silly fundies…

I chimed in 2006 feeling like arse. I feel better now – sort of. Friday at work was no fun as this cold-like illness hit me suddenly and ferociously. I should asked to go home early, because I recall being out of the door to the building in record time that afternoon. Last night, I was in bed at 11:50PM, mumbled "happy New Year" to joi_division at midnight and then passed out.

Like I said, I feel better now but don't expect me to be jumping around all happy and active just yet. I feel better, but not in top form – not by a long shot.

2005 came and went, as years tend to do. I can't really comment much on it, save for two big events: the loss of a friendship and that Joi and moved in together.

Regarding the former, there's really not much I can say about it – not that I care to confess in a public forum, however. If I were to try and explain it without specifics, all I could tell you is that some people don't evolve – they regress. In this case, the individual in question had become a very petty, self-centred type. I had nothing more to offer him and wouldn't play the games he wanted me to, so he disposed of me. I returned the favour, upset, but confident that I had made the right choice.

If there is one thing I have learned in life, it is that when something is detrimental to your well-being, you are better off getting rid of it than trying to salvage whatever initial benefit it had. I wish I had learned this sooner. It applies to people and many other things. There are ghosts that still haunt me from college, even though I left there well over three years ago. I wish I hadn't made some decisions back then…and I wish I knew how to deal with the repercussions of those decisions now…

Joi and moved in together in the summer of 2005. So far, so good, I say. We've yet to throw dishes at each other. Seriously though, this was probably the best decision we could have made together. I was over at her place constantly, with her driving me home every night. Now we save time and gas and get to sleep together on a nightly basis. What's not to like? Nothing is perfect, but I recall reading a short work of fiction once. In the story, a scientist was married to the most beautiful woman in the world; she had but one flaw: a rose-coloured birthmark on her cheek in the shape of a small hand. The scientist told his wife that he could remove this imperfection with enough time and research. She agreed to let him try and he, through much effort, eventually succeeded in finding a method to remove the woman's one imperfection. The birthmark faded away and she was finally perfect…and in that moment, she expired, "for only things in Heaven are perfect."

The point: I love Joi too much to try and change her. So, I tolerate all of her little quirks in the same way I'm sure she tolerates mine. Few women will make you four cups of lemon-honey tea in a single sitting when your throat is slowly being closed off by mucus.

Illusion of Joy? Last year, I posted a bunch of statistics regarding downloads for my 2004 reflection on the musical project. That shit's boring (both for you to read and for me to tabulate) so I'm not doing that this year. Not much has changed anyhow – "Is There Some Way Out Of Here?" is still the most downloaded song of the bunch as far as actual downloads go.

I have finished recording a new album: The Forever Syndrome. It'll be out for public consumption sometime this year, if all goes well. Hopefully, some other things regarding Illusion of Joy will also coalesce.

Honestly, I really don't have much to say about 2005. I mostly see it as a year of transition – where all of the pieces got thrown into the air and I'm still waiting for most of them to fall. I do so wonder where they will land…