New year, oh dear.

 January 2nd 2025.

Is this one of those promises I'll make to myself only to break within three weeks? 'Write a 500-word daily account of what goes on in my head'. Part of me is up for it, but the internal saboteur in me constantly says, "It won't last", the devil inside that stops us from doing what we enjoy, that nagging voice that says 'you're too old' and 'Who cares?' 'Waste of time' on and on until we see a reason to throw the towel in the ring and stop. 

Listen, I like writing; whether it's good or bad is neither here nor there; it's something I enjoy doing; it's not like I'm selling it or have any misconceptions about me writing books; no, it's just one of those things that make my day, so screw you, internal critic, find another person to demotivate and leave me alone. 

The last three weeks have been strange, I mean really muddled and confusing, I had a cold, which meant I spent more time indoors than I otherwise would have; the skies were mainly grey, no sunshine and around Christmas until now, no shows or gigs I could get some adrenaline from. To be honest, I spent too much time idly scrolling stupid internet reels, watching the most mind-numbing crap you can imagine, and watching series I have already seen (!!!) on Netflix, wasting the days while waiting for the clogged nose, the sore throat and the headaches to go away. 

I also watched a lot of doom-and-gloom news, trying to understand this new political alignment that seems to be taking place in the world. Trump is coming, and Elon (the skunk) Musk is like some villain from a James Bond movie hanging around in the background of every event, posting inciting quotes online to his 'macho bro' supporters to heat the situation to boiling point. 

Then there is the group of other maniacs… Iran, Netanyahu, Poetin, and the list goes on, all causing mass death, destruction and a bleak future. In Afghanistan, there is a real-life Handmaids tale taking place (and in lesser but just as evil ways) in Iran, too, relegating women to official second-class citizenship. There was the religious nutcase murderer who drove his car into a market full of people in Magdeburg, the 'would be' ISIS lunatic in New Orleans, and now a Tesla full of fireworks has been set off at the entrance of a Trump Hotel in Las Vegas. Watching all that and reading the local news on young people throwing stones and fireworks at firefighters and police and ambulance personnel in Brussels made me 'not too happy' (understatement). 

Then, this morning, I woke up. The sun was shining, and I felt good. I had a great breakfast, got dressed up warm, and went out for a walk around some of the parks in our district of Antwerp. The good old sun cheered everyone up; people I walked past nodded and said 'hello' or 'Happy New Year'. It felt good, the air felt different, and the sun became a metaphor for the majority, the majority of people who just want to get on with their lives, do their best to live a good life and live as good as possible in harmony despite all the differences and enjoy and be contented with the small things, like a walk in the sun in a park. The problems and threats in politics and climate haven't gone, but those rays of sunshine this morning lifted the spirit.