New New Year

what-time-is-it-there-mkv_20170101_133935-794
A scene in What Time Is It There?

Carlos Drummond wrote in his poem New Year’s Recipe:

“You don’t need
To make a list of good resolutions
To file in your bureau drawer.
You don’t need to cry with regret
Over foolish things you’ve already done
Or to half believe
That by the decree of hope
From January onward things will change
…”

Sometimes I feel like I’m floating in nothing, even time. Though at this period, time means so much for me. I count it, I perceive it, and try not to be excessively vulnerable in front of it. That’s why the poem has assuaged my conscience and consoled my guilty soul.

The poem reminded me of the fact that  people (including me) can’t resist being dependent on the numbers indicating elapsing time. Making a to-do list before going to bed, making resolution of the coming year, making a list of deeds on the verge of ending a year, or even waiting till the weekend to clean the house, they are all, actually, the indications of  defencelessness when facing to time. It’s like a person have to do things since it’s the right time. But why is it the right time? No clues, he just himself enjoys the thoughts of a fitting moment, just for him, or for every ordinary people, like the ones of a new year moment. To start trying to be a new “him”, a new “them”, or a new “me”.

I don’t want to start a year with any wishes or goals, a week or day with any solid lists of things to do. But if I don’t do such things, what can keep me from hopelessly floating! There’s one way I give away for myself, that is finding the meaning of everything I do, for not having to tranquilize myself with a list of deeds in the end of an abandoned year in some respects.

All of a sudden, I remember the man in What Time Is It There?, a Taiwan movie directed by Tsai Ming-liang. He is apparently obssessed with time, for after selling his own watch to a woman who is going to Paris, the man suffers from a hopeless desire to set every clock he comes across to Paris time.

Many things I have done vaguely stem from my fervor. But whether my fervor covers the fear of time.

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