Somehow I've managed to survive and witness 25 ''new years." Throughout time, each celebration becomes less meaningful. I think this statement is a realistic rather than pessimistic approach on the matter.
As I grow older, and look deeper into the extensions of reality, it becomes more obvious to me that such traditions have no particular meaning to the development of human life, other than collecting a vast array of memories to remind us of happier times, that in most cases are just a temporary theatrical play infused by exaggeration. It is important to be happy when you feel like it not by a collectively imposed illusion.
A new year is merely the sentiment of filling away the past marked by a simple number of reference, and the idea of a fresh beginning.
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