annus mirabilis

 I’m supposed to give a rat’s ass the new year is about to begin. Whoopee. Yay. Break out the shotguns and champagne. We’ll be drinking fancy tonight. Here’s to another year of shit happening. Yay. I can’t wait. I was more excited about the world ending. Fuck. The world’s still turning. I’m still breathing. Ugh. I’ll be thankful, I guess.

I’m actually more excited about the fact that in two days I’ll be a month clean. I think about it almost every day. I’m trying this time. I think this is worth celebrating. I want to fuck up my arms really badly, but I’m not going to. I’m not going to act impulsively. I’ve  been trying new things. These new things may not be working in the way I want them to work, but I’ve tried them. And I will keep trying them.

I don’t think I will stay up for the ball to drop. Dick Clark and ball dropping in the same sentence makes me cringe. Wait. Oh. He’s dead. Well. There’s nothing more to say about that.

I’m going to sleep. Maybe if I wake up in the morning the world will be sunshine and kittens and edible gingerbread houses and harps playing in the background and apples on trees and people dancing to ELO and stands giving away free marshmallows and world peace and–

I think my soul would still look like Detroit as depicted in Robocop.

I’m going to bed.

Good night.