Stillness and the new year arrives and beckons me to change into something extraordinary. Actually, I don't think I could actually change into anything. Haven't quite explored shapeshifting. Nor would I want to change into someone else. I am just fine the way I am. I am, however, learning to lower my expectations to avoid anxiety over fruitless moments. However, there is always room to change my way of daily thinking. So the momentous date stays ingrained in the brain. January one. New day. New year. I'm also hearing, "The start of a new decade." The dinosaurs could give a shit about a decade now that their contorted bones lye still in the earth. They continue on through lumbering dreams of tearing through flesh or picking up a ton of lake mud and grasses; chewing and pondering paradise. My paradise is here. Electrical fed momentum is my daily bread. There are no dangers here. At least not yet. Only good old fashion American want.
In this dirty and twisted world, to some people, I suppose, a new year is just another day for them to pick up a rifle, dig in and fight for instilled principles. To someone else the new year is just another day covered in bruises, a fat lip and maybe in a few months when the new year doesn't matter much, a broken arm. There are also some people who know the new year holds nothing more than business as usual in a foreign place that wants to see you naked and will pay for it.
My paradise is here. My coffee is waiting. Nothing needs to change, yet something needs to change.