NYE, 2015/16. 2:07 am.
The night I was conceived in passion & beauty, 48 years ago.
Or maybe intoxication. Need to remember to ask. If my Mother ever calls.
Figured it was best to enter the new year clean for the first time in a while – no flesh hanging off of me, no blood to slip in, none of the poison that’s been in my head for the past 6 years, just wanting to end me.
It is important. Even though the new year is just another day – it’s what we MAKE it that makes it something new, something special, a place to start getting better, healthier, apply yourself at the job you hate more like a good little under-appreciated pawn – or break out of the mess, and follow your dreams.
Regardless of what the dreams cost – they pay back tenfold. That job NEVER will… so maybe now it’s time to be who you always dreamed of being? Do what you’ve always wanted? Realize how GOOD it feels to get past the sheer terror of actually LIVING?
I dare you to.
I know 2016 is going t be insane. Things I haven’t been able to do, I now can or soon will be able to – and I fucking WILL.
It’s been 6 years of dreaming, 6 years of hope. 6 years of “Gods, if I live, I’m going to…”
And now it begins. The dreams I had when I was dying – or just simply lethargic & spiritless to the point that the act of getting out of bed was exhausting – NOW it is time to make them “reality”.
To create. To make. To help… to WRITE.
To jump off the cliff again.
This time, I don’t have to look over my shoulder.
I know my wings are there… the ones I’ve rebuilt with paste, bandages, and your generosity – and it’s time again to fly.
Happy New Year… and thank you.