Silence

This year is coming to a close and I'm just not feeling it. It's this thing we do. This thing I do. It moves in my head. I feel it on my back and under my skin. Slowly trying to make sense of it. Of me. Of what it's to become. This year. Another year. In the darkness. In the light? Perhaps. Perhaps. In no time it will all become clear. What's to come next. For me and for you. The uncertainty overwhelming as I pass through from one state to the next. Making it happen. Overcoming it all. For good or for bad. Something to think about or something to shun. Something to live and breathe and be while you sit on the sideline with your noise maker. Just do. Just feel. Know that everyday is another day and it's just a date on a calendar that makes people scramble. Thinking of it all as though it means something but really it's your life. Another child born, another elder dies. It does not matter on what day that happens. This is the time. The place. The one you've been waiting for. To break the spell. To start anew. To end the chapter. To ring out the new? Peace and love and mass texts. We spell it backwards and forwards again out into the great abyss of another year coming round. What makes them declare when I start my new year? Why does it need to be on that day, with the punks out in Times Square making a mockery of a closing year. For new. For old. For something blue. I leave it to you. Quiet whispers. Just Be. Just do.