December 31, 2008

• What does one do on the last day of the year?

  A part of writing is the unnamed "feeling". One can feel like writing but not have the words. One can have the meaning, the thing, the impetus. But not the words. I feel, I have that thing, but not the words. Not really.

  Still, it's the last day of the year. And I'm wearing large green earrings and a pair of green sneakers circa 2006. And I'm thinking about writing about the mingled fear and excitement I feel about this new year. Unaccountably nothing will really be different about tomorrow, nothing that should inspire such introspection, such frenzy. But it's the last day of the year, which means tomorrow will be the first day of the first month of a new year. And the newness of that is intoxicating. We are drunk with it, the newness.

  So, in my intoxication I am writing, and smiling. Sitting on my sister's bed writing on a borrowed laptop (hers) thinking and not thinking about how everything reminds us of something else, someone, a different time. Like a favorite song from a favorite time. Old things will remain, in memory at the very least, and new things will come and soon they'll come to represent something, someone. And there will be new songs. It's the newness we love, that we can feel in our bones. It is in the very air on this, the last day of the year.

  But really, nothing will be different about tomorrow. Nothing at all. Which is precisely why tomorrow will be magnificent.

  My best wishes to you all  Enjoy the new, remember the old.

  • 6:00 pm
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