Blood Tangent | Sarai Nissan

Maybe I am incomprehensible, hellish, messed up—definitely doomed. Maybe I am a little destructive and simply just a wreck of a person. Maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about. But it’s a new year and I have never been one for New Year’s resolutions; just to set the record straight, here’s to all the things about me that maybe I should change and I will probably, most definitely, not.

I still haven’t gotten a new license—it’s been expired eight months. I think buying a $300 vintage Skinny Puppy T-shirt is a better investment than, say maybe, a savings account. I can’t be bothered to cook for myself. My apartment is nearly always a mess because I also can’t be bothered to clean it. I had to Google “things adults should know.” I don’t know how to change a tire. I barely know how to navigate without an iPhone. I don’t know if I will ever stop picking at the skin around my nails. I don’t how know to do my taxes. I have no idea how to balance a checkbook. I don’t know all of my 20-some cousins’ names. I don’t know if I will ever drink gin again—I’m very bad at drinking in moderation. I don’t know why I’m so stubborn. I don’t like to meet new people or leave my house. I like my cat more than human beings. I don’t know why I have more contacts in my phone than people I actually remember. I don’t know how to make myself learn any of these things and I don’t know if any of that is all okay.

But, here are some resolutions, in the most literal sense of the word: acknowledging my own foibles might not make me feel better, (in fact, it really doesn’t,) but it might make me a slightly more conscious person. It might be some sort of cathartic ritual. This might be a significantly smaller list than the one above.

So from here on out don’t expect any “moral of the stories” any new-found glory, the band or otherwise, any profound or philosophical or any kind of epiphanies. I can be a lost boy too, you know. So here’s to all that and thanks for the chat.