Last Christmas

Today, for the first time in a long time, I was excited to be alive--the future seemed limitless, not redundant and needless as usual. As I held my gaze on Seoul, far below, my breath was stolen. There was excitement and desire, promise and fortitude.

   When I came to Korea, I was on the verge on growing mad--losing all hope of ever rekindling the ability to have a rational thought, my self-efficacy was hemorrhaging at an alarming rate. But each day it is slowly returning. Today was the first day I noticed the vast improvement--the mental state that I am currently engaged in is vastly superior to the dark place I inhibited last August, when I left. I can reflect upon the dark places that dredged me to Korea in the first place. 

   Each day brings hope: of being fixed, of negating the evil within me, of finding peace of mind. The taste of almond flour, coconut oil, cocoa powder, and avocado remind me of last December--last December, what a dark place--last Christmas, darker still, or the days that would follow (the darkest of all days). To steal a metaphor I'm fond of (from a song that's heartwrenching still) I'm still within the rose. I'm still the same person, with the same naive ideology. But I'm marginally more intelligent, I'm marginally closer to where I need to be. Where I need to be, where I never need to be is Halifax, what a dark place. 

   The world seems so small. Nowhere is more than a day away.

Last Christmas I was in a comatose state, I existed but was not alive--I was human, but with faux desire. I breathed, because it was inconvenient not to--but life was not happening to me--I was looking down on somebody, trying to awaken them, trying to teach them happiness. I thought I would never escape, I thought I would follow a dark road. From last Christmas I became somebody else--somebody I didn't wish to be--somebody trying to escape, and numb himself through artificial means. Somebody who was hopeless. I'm still not whole, I'm still bitter, and lost. But now I'm vaguely aware that the labyrinth may have an exit after all. 

This Christmas I will be in Sri Lanka, to contrast with last year's darkness.