Ends

A year on fire comes to a smoldering ember, is stomped  out by the collective exhaustion of a people dragged through its flames. We sit waiting, anxiously counting down minutes, knowing nothing really will change at the stroke of midnight but thinking maybe, maybe there’ll be miracles at the end of this clock, at the end of this drink, thinking I am going to make it through this year if it kills me, and hoping it will not. 

79 minutes left. We pour another drink, light a fire in the backyard and watch a full moon cross the heavens, one year I watched the stars in the black sky of the west and said the Universe has already given me the gifts, it is now up to me to use them. And this year the Universe took all our gifts from us, took our hard earned wins and the ground from under us when we’d always taken it for granted but god damn, it did not take our hope, and making it into the new year is how we prove it. 75 minutes left. You will start from the bottom, yes. But you will build towers and light stars, you will give the Universe gifts in return, 67 minutes left and in the new year you hold the Universe just as much as you wanted it to hold you in the travesty of a year that passed. 

It’s a new year. The you is old, but damn, if this isn’t a year it’ll be good.