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40. Twenty, F**king Twenty

I am already sick of people saying; "2020, what a year" or "2020, now it hasn't been the most typical of years" and so on and so forth. Like we know, you know? Everyone knows! I think this year, more than anything, has made us all really tired and ready for a brand spanking new 2021 around the corner. I apologise for the draining tone of this post, but I wouldn't be paying the truest of homages to 2020 if it wasn't. A fresh start they say, a blank slate or a new canvas to paint on. I would be lying if I said that I looked at this oncoming 2021 through a different lens. That's the whole affinity of a new year, because with a new year comes the abundance of glorious new resolutions that you will achieve in that new year. But let me tell you one thing: you should tell your new year's resolution to fuck off! Stay put and let me tell you why.

Last year I ventured to the wilding world of Argentina after graduating high school. I had this preconception that in the art of fucking off to the other side of the globe that I would then become all content, self-assured and confident. I would then be completely, utterly and entirely happy. That is not to say that when I graduated high school that I was severely depressed or anything. But as a newly bred active participant in this world, I was cripplingly insecure about myself. The act of going abroad would resolve that entirely and I would return to Aotearoa as a new and improved Ella Gibson. However, what I didn't fully comprehend was the radical revelation of this one crucial factor: I may be going to a different place externally, but I will be in the exact same place internally. Take a minute to let that one sink in brothers. Your mind will be with you wherever you go. Whatever you are going through in your mind will remain while your feet trek elsewhere. I was quick to realise that.

This year has been unorthodox in a multitude of ways. Right off the bat, I thought it was going to be a bizarre one because of my unfortunate superstitious ways, ways of which that have not proved me wrong. I woke up on that January 1st of 2020 in the Cardrona Valley at the Rhythm & Alps festival to a red sun. I had never seen anything like it before. Waking up, I was expecting the obvious dusty feeling because I had raved until the record time of 4am. But the dusty ardour extended itself beyond the ache in my head, it was actualised in the literal air. It's blistering appearance was due to the Australian bush fires. Do you remember those? Yeah, that was this damn year! If bad omens are a thing, that was it. Because what followed this year was quite the turn of unexpected and devastating events.

Culturally, we live for Fridays and we hate Mondays. We love the holidays and we hate the working week. We love the anticipation for something more and we hate the acceptance of the present moment. There is always a belief in something more, something more that we should be plastering our attention on and some future venture that we look forward to. This my friends, is the deathtrap of our consumerist society. See, I thought that our consumerist society of always wanting more and never being satisfied with what one has was purely limited to the materialistic goodies that make up our wardrobes and garages. In fact, I was quite wrong. When you think about it, we have even structured our time with the consumerist culture of not ever having enough. This cyclical creation of working for a Friday ultimately to not work and then finally getting to enjoy life only to ever experience this negative feedback loop again and again and for all of eternity is downright toxic. It breeds nothing but unhappiness. With this new year around the corner, our minds begin to imagine what will come from this next year. Here is a diagram that I found that kind of visualises the existential crisis that we are in:

Do you get it? You will feel better as soon as that Friday comes along and it does, it never fails to not come. But do you ever feel totally fulfilled and better after your weekend? As soon as it ends, we are living to relive it. Cue the reckoning of the new year resolutions baby! And cue my subsequent rant about their very existence!

Having a goal is not the problem. Having a goal is actually damn important and as long as your goals fall under that intermediate school SMART acronym, you should be well and truely fine. Specific, measurable, attainable, relevant and time-based goals are great! But then there's the dawn of the new year resolutions, let me tell you why they suck and how they fall under our consumerist regime. Today should most likely be made up of 24 hours. Yesterday did and tomorrow probably will consist of 24 hours too. This whole ideology of waiting for a new year to dawn to fucking get up and do whatever it is you want to do is stupid. News flash: you are going into 2021 with all of that same baggage that lingered at your 2020 side. Your mind is with you wherever you go. I want to tell you right now to stop procrastinating and just do it.

If someone were to ask for my predictions of 2020 when that red sun hovered over the Cardrona Valley that morning, I couldn't have predicted any of the mess that has become of this year. Uncertainty is everywhere and is in everything that we do. We can plan as much as we want to which aids the logistics of any situation. But we really need to be prepared to be unprepared, everything is uncertain. Hypothetically, I could say that as soon as 2021 hits I will hit the gym everyday. Except I couldn't say that and shouldn't say that. If I wanted to get fit, 2021's genesis should not hold me back from that. I should start that journey right now. Human nature hates randomness and disorganisation, hence new year resolutions being a thing. Beginning something at the beginning of a year makes our timelines a lot tidier. But a fitness journey, for instance, is a process. It does not start and end on one day or on one specific date. It only begins when you and your mind decide that it does.

We do not know what is going to come from today or tomorrow, let alone next year. This shit-show of a year acts as the prime eyewitness testimony to prove this point to be true. Be a fucking rebel, a renegade and an agitator to the system; let now be the time that you make that change. Fuck your new year's resolution!

This blog post is the last of 2020's blog posts. Coincidentally, I find it nice that post number 40 is called 2020. Because twenty plus twenty gets us to forty, you know (quick math)? That's kind of nice I thought. But I hope that whatever has crossed your path this year has made you all that stronger. Next year, please continue that growth! You are living this life for you, not anyone else and that is the only guarantee. Emma Watson said in a feminist speech: "if not now, when? If not me, who?" Go out there and get it, right now, don't wait any longer! And that's me, Ella Gibby, out. Peace and aroha xxx

If you have any further questions based on this blog post or anything else in regards to this blog, be sure to get in contact with me through this website or through the blog's instagram linked below.


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This blog will encompass the life of a 20-year-old kiwi chica. Composed of stories, advice, life lessons, worldly observations and whatever else Ella's life brings to surface. For all of this and more, read my new found blog 'Born In 2000': established on the 28th of October, 2019. Where Ella Gibson explores her life that exceeds all limitations. Publications should be expected once a week. Also, be sure to take this present moment now and rock it!

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