An Average Day.

People love moments. They capture them. Hold them. Re-live them. It's those moments in which Andy never experiences, it's not because he's an outcast neither just a spectre of society. Andy contributes, he donates to charities, like Living a dream and Call me Sandra.

Andy, a man of many talents. Though if you asked him he could only mention about the time he drank his dog under the table, now, as I and yourselves can find that hilarious, (A dog shouldn't drink alcohol), Andy considered such a moment an achievement above anything. Moments for Andy are rarities in themselves. Even the time he made out with this chick at a party. It's just an average day for Andy.

Holidays, seasons, birthdays all of this for andy is just; normal. He doesn't celebrate them but neither does he accept them, neither does he remember them. As a narrator, I can only question Andy's own morality, his perspectives. I print upon this paper the life of a man uncelebrated, forgotten. Average. 

New Years Springs upon as all in our lifetimes, we celebrate what we have achieved, what we have overcome. Yet make plans to always strive for better in sickness and in health. Andy is just himself, he couldn't care about acceptance, either improvement, as his clarity on perfection is short-sighted. He lacks vision and excitement. I never asked Andy about his past because it never clicked that his past could shape the moments in which he feels in the future. Maybe I was wrong? Maybe I should of?.... This man who I spoke to for hours, which melted like minutes, The man who doesn't celebrate new years, neither anything. No one. Not even himself. Is it remarkable yet is it tragic? No Andy's story isn't tragic it's just average... But isn't that what's tragic about it? 

Andy Liked to spend most of his days, knitting. I quarrelled with this many times, as Andy a man with such masculinity, proposes himself to activity with such feminity, such compassion. He never hung out with friends, just his dog Toad. A companion he could trust and lay his love into. Isn't that what we all need?

New Years Arrives.

Hearts implode like fireworks, party poppers roar with excitement. People cheer with expectation. Yet Andy, sits, watches TV his dog. Is Andy too be judged for this?.... I pleasantly take delight in slipping into my best clothes, going down to the club and partying my way into the bedroom. Trust me. I'm not that smooth. Though I partake within the celebration, I enlight the flame in which is New years. A time for new beginnings.

Andy spoke of moments where it was just him, whether he was sipping a mimosa in his garden, petting his dog. It was just him. He never really celebrated with anyone else but he never needed, he never questioned. Maybe after my interview, he would?, But why would he?.... He has no reason too. I proceeded to attack him from many different corners, standing his ground he did. I tried to uncover what wasn't so Average about our Andy. The penetrating silence that I could see in his eyes. He cleared his throat. preparing for War. He spoke something so, so, so unexpected. 

"I'm a Man with his Dog... why do you question my life?"

As Humorous as it may be too me that a man who does nothing, who just sits and stares at the inception of a screen every day with his furry companion, isn't something questionable, I was quite literally. Shocked. I was eager with a response, though my mind has been delayed with one for weeks. For Months. 

New year approached, and as I kissed the girlfriend upon the cheek while Holding the Can of beer I just took from the fridge. My mind went blank. The answer To his question leapt into my mind. The thing that haunted my morality, though it was so simple. It was right there all along, I answered my own question, over and over, and over again. 

I shouldn't. 

Happiness is so delicate, yet so hard to find, to replace. Andy built his happiness, his safe place. He didn't celebrate what was going to happen, what was ever going to change because he never needed to, everything he ever had was right there. His dog, his mimosa, his knitting needles. They were all there whenever he needed them. They never said no, they never answered they just, did what he told them to do. Andy accepted that he couldn't move on, he couldn't change so he didn't celebrate the things that proposed such ideas. That offered such an opportunity. He just settled.

I began chuckling to myself about why this controlled and objectified my mind for soo very long, The misses turned to me and spoke, "What you laughing about ya numpty", in her own perky voice... My reply was what Andy thought all along, what he wanted to say but never wanted to admit because that was a defeat for Andy. "I'm Just So happy"... She smiled and kissed my cheek. The cats within the background meowing there heads off.

As I fed my cats, I asked another question, one that Andy kept answering. My realisation was that, arent I just Andy?, Arent I just Average. my whole world built my happiness, just Like Andy's. To me my life has been adventurous, I have travelled to the corner of the globes, depths of books. I have seen lives melt, people burn. 

Though, to someone else, I'm just average. I'm just like everyone else. I'm just happy within myself, with my average life, my average girlfriend, my average cats. 

The TV roars as the neighbours scream with excitement, I sit upon my couch once again for the final time this year. I think about Andy and about actually how unaverage he really is. I questioned him, I asked him... that's not average. That's new, that's exciting.

That's what new years all about. 

"5,4,3,2,1, HAPPY NEW YEAR!"