It’s all been said and done.
Now a new year’s on the horizon again…and I can’t remember the last time I consulted the keyboard for the occasion. I guess I’ve been caught up in my twenties and trying to swerve with the times, but it all seems like an afterthought now, or something else in the distance.
All I see is my bank account and my pictures, and my car and my night classes. And all I see is my time with the Inside Out Writers, or the Plus Me project, or the city of L.A. as viewed through JIMBO TIMES.
And then there are the friends I have, or that I used to have, or who I’m trying to keep even as time and money come between us. And there’s mom, and my brother, and my tío.
But there’s also a new presidency on the horizon, and with it a new generation of backlash, argumentation, and filtering through what’s true. It’s a fascinating time, but it’s also frightening. Still, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
But then who am I kidding? At times the world and my place in it fills with me an insatiable rage. A rage that burns through my throat and into the depths of my lungs. When it finally subsides, there’s an infinite sadness to wade through.
Before I know it, however, I’m past the states of rage and sadness, and somewhere along a horizon in the wind. There, all I’ve got is air to breathe through. Inhaling and exhaling, with a routine or a certain sure path that shuts my eyes at the end of the day. A way towards peace with myself. When I’m there, there’s just enough of everything. Everything will be alright.
Tonight is one of those nights. And I can live with it. I can live with everything ahead.