I can’t die in the next year. I feel like writing this is a jinx, but it’s true. If I die in the next year I’ll completely and absolutely totally regret it.

Obviously, if I die, I won’t know I died. If I die, my regret would die along with me, but I want you, my loyal reader, to keep my regret alive.

See, over the next year many exciting things are happening. Here’s a short list:

  1. Star Wars: The Force Awakens
  2. X-Files Reboot
  3. Batman vs. Superman (Have you even seen Wonder Woman?)
I know this is objectifying a woman, but this is a reason I don’t want to die in the next year.

4. The next freakin’ Harry Potter movie, which isn’t really a Harry Potter movie.

5. And the stand-alone Star Wars movie.

6. The freakin’ Battle of the Bastards (if it’s even a real thing).

Okay, I know what you’re thinking: “Dude, you’re pretty lame. You don’t want to die because you want to see movies?”

My answer to you is this: “Yes. And fuck you.”

One of the greatest parts about being a human is the ability to make connections that are not based off past experiences. What I mean by this is simple. We humans can connect two separate thoughts. Most other beasts (we are a beast too) make connections based off what happened before. For example, a dog knows it’s time for a walk after it eats and when its owner picks up a leash (talking Pavlovian responses here).

But the connection I am making here is to the David Foster Wallace “This is Water” commencement address. In this address, Wallace makes the argument that, for almost everyone, each day is mundane. This extends beyond work. Family is mundane. Eating is mundane. Living is mundane. And, for the most part, there is no freedom in our actions. We are controlled by the need to get things done in order to survive.

However, every so often outlier moments present themselves. The next year is full of these moments. Each of the movies or TV shows listed above help me escape the mundanity of existence.

To me, the little things in life are what really matter. The expansions of our imaginations. The learning of new skills. The happiness we are able to bring out in others.

A week ago, a Star Wars fan watched an unedited version of A Force Awakens because he was dying of cancer. This is the greatest gift one could bestow on a geek and I envy Daniel Fleetwood because “My dying wish is to see another Star Wars movie” is something I’ve thought.

Being a nerd makes me happy. John Green made the greatest comment about what it means to be a nerd:

Nerds are allowed to love stuff, like jump-up-and-down-in-the-chair-can’t-control-yourself love it. [W]hen people call people nerds, mostly what they’re saying is ‘you like stuff.’ Which is just not a good insult at all. Like, ‘you are too enthusiastic about the miracle of human consciousness’.”

Every morning I wake up at 5:45 because my aging body says, “Pee now.” Then I drive to work at 7:15 a.m. and deal with young people who, like bulls in a bullfighting ring, are running headfirst into mundanity. Finally, I come home at 4 p.m. only to recover and then prepare to start again the next day.

So what if I watch the Star Wars trailer almost every hour trying to figure out exactly what Kylo Ren’s relationship is to Rey? (For the record, I think they are brother and sister and son and daughter to Han and Leia.)

So what if I watch old X-Files on Netflix because the Cigarette Smoking Man is the absolute shit?

So what if Batman vs. Superman is probably going to suck because, let’s be honest now, Zach Snyder kinda sucks?

I enjoy the possibilities. I enjoy the new worlds. (I want to go to Naboo. I believe in Kalel) I enjoy, just for a few hours, escaping the ordinariness of me and partaking in something extraordinary.

When I’m here in a year, I’ll find something else to be excited about in order to keep on living.