Another countdown, another horrendous year shriveling up in the final moments of its death. 

That sounds bleak, but we all know how atrocious 2016 has been. 

Time is a concept that is very much always on my brain, mostly because the older I get, the more unchanged I feel; not older—in fact, sometimes a little younger (read: immature). 

I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. I saw a documentary clip on the great and late Prince, in which he credited his miraculous agelessness to the practice of not celebrating birthdays: if one cannot tick off the years in their life, one cannot get older. 

A flawed theory to be sure, but an interesting idea nonetheless. 

But as I consider Prince's questionable fountain of youth, I wonder if there might not be more truth to it. Gravity and an eternally orbiting planet are the arch enemies of time, but we are the ones who take that flat line and fold it into an accordion, neatly segmenting the years spent on Earth. We take a certain distance already warped by said gravity and orbit, and make it appear shorter. So there might be something to ignoring the hours, days, and years we make ourselves prisoners to. 

Of course, this means accepting that 2016 will not end, but rather bleed and fade away into the time extended before us. But we always knew this would be the case. Deep down, we all know the start of new years do not protect us from anything. Time, unfortunately, is not like a game of tag, in which if you can outpace your predator and touch your hand to the safety of base, you will fortify yourself against harm. 

And yet, it also means there are no rules. There’s no final score. There’s nothing to play by. Which means should you choose, you can turn the tables and make 2017 your year and beyond. 

Just make sure to give 2016 a nice little kick in the shins before you peace on out. 

Happy New Forever, y'all. <3

Mango blazer; H&M choker, pants, and tee; Zara earrings and shoes.