Young Writers Society

I flip to the last page of my calendar. Time’s up, it says, time’s up. And he’s right, it’s all almost over, and I only wish I could’ve been a better person this past year. There are countless, nameless things that could’ve done differently, but didn’t.

I wish I was more honest and respectable, a noble person. But I wasn’t. I was manipulative and deceiving, I took advantage of times when I was given trust. I lied, and made people think I was the good guy when I was really the con.

Why am I so damn lazy? I napped too much, rarely helped my parents clean around, and when I did clean, I only did it to get something in return. I could’ve done my homework, but instead I slept much longer than I needed to, played more games than my eyes could handle, and wrote more than my fair share for a day. I procrastinated and ended up doing my homework early in the morning and in other classes.

Sometimes, I’m heartless, indifferent, and selfish. I didn’t care about anyone except myself, only did things that in some way benefited me. I never really thought about other people, or their feelings, or what they sacrificed in order for me to be happy. As long as I was happy, that’s all that mattered, and I’m ashamed. It was always what I wanted, when I wanted it.

I was ashamed of being poor when I had to leave my high-maintenance life and move into a smaller house when our house was foreclosed. I looked down on other people, thought lowly of them when they deserved much better. I saw money and fortune and luxury as everything in life, when it’s not.

I cheated, and lied about it. In school, in life, in a lot of places. And after that, I lied to myself again and said that it was fair because if I actually did the work, the results would be the same. I cheated other people who deserved what I received, and I cheated myself.

I’ve brought others down with my words and my actions. I was envious and kept people from being the best they could be. I’ve done good deeds only for the rewards and fame.

I made false friends and let them trust me when I didn’t deserve it. I smiled and laughed with them while lying through my teeth. I misled them.

But this isn’t some self-pity diary I’m writing. I’ve done good things, too. I worked hard to do well in school, and succeeded from my own efforts. I helped people when they didn’t ask, and did my best when they did.

I’ve been honest to myself and treated myself well. I was able to improve in so many ways. I’m not as immature as the previous year. I’m wiser and more sensible. My writing is beyond whatever it was before. I’ve become confident with myself.

I’ve done service to my community because I felt it was my duty as a person. I’ve given to charity and have put myself in other’s shoes. I’ve given up luxuries and have contacted my spiritual side.

Most importantly, I’ve made other people smile. With gifts, with words, with my own smile. I like it when other people smile; it makes me feel happy, like I actually have a purpose in life. And I can make people laugh, too. I’ve been a person people could trust and confide in, and I’ve given advice and words of comfort where it was needed. I’ve loved other people.

But still, the question stares me in the face asking who do you want to be? Is it even possible to answer with words?

And if I could put it all on paper, I’d say I want to be honest and respectable, dependable and trustworthy, energetic and ambitious, loving and thoughtful, kind and compassionate, classy, generous, encouraging, real, myself.

So come on, new year! I’m not afraid. This is my chance to be a new person and I’m looking forward to everything I can become.