The pear day

I think I'm getting tired of celebrating days every year. It's the same thing over and over again; if it's not Valentine's Day, it's Mother's Day, Father's Day, Aunt Clotilde's Day, or the day for people named Nicanor.

If it's not a day, it's a month; like Independence Month, Carnival Month, or Christmas Month. If it's not a month, it's a year; like the year of the Olympics or the World Cup. Always this obsession with repeating events, creating traditions, and marking temporal milestones. We live trapped in repetitions where the main thing is to eat the same, act in the same way, and dress in the same colors.

I imagine the goal is to honor the past or mark cultural identity, but life is too short, and I prefer to explore novelty. Although, I also admit that it's nice to have specific reasons to celebrate; holidays have a peculiar flavor and color.

That's why I dream of celebrating "the year of the pear from the elm tree," it would be something like a year where nothing ever exists, an endlessly new and eternal event.