By Yash Seyedbagheri
I open windows to a New Year. Paint last year’s walls lavender. Rearrange books according to hopefulness, instead of most depressing. But credit card bills leap from screens. Student loans demand payment. They don’t recognize spaces I’ve finally tackled. People I’ve apologized to. Tempers I’ve combatted.
I close the computer. Pledge to pay X loan. Y card. Preempt numbers. But when I reopen the computer, they remind me I’m delinquent. A statistic who once withdrew into Merlot-induced euphoria. Discarded responsibility.
I clean, blast Tchaikovsky waltzes, polish my desk, open windows wider. But numbers dart out. I can’t paint over them.
“I write to explore human behavior, to ask questions, and to poke fun at the world.” – the writer