There’s no machine to turn back time. No erase icon to click. No delete button to press. No one can ever undo anything. No one ever has. It’s freaking New Year. Big deal. Everyone’s got their own resolutions, own fires to crack, own predictions and et cetera. People are now focused on what might be on the sack for them this year. And I’m left behind again. As usual. Trapped on the might have beens. 2006 was a downer, like a shot of depressing barbiturate. Departures, disappointments, fucked-up decisions, betrayal and all that. As much as I wanted to be optimistic, it seemed like the negatives had shoved off all the positive charged molecules on my system. I’ve been reading a lot of books for the past couple of months, which I think kind of helped me understand why I’m going through all this sick shit. This is nobody’s fault but mine. Self-destruction. Though this wasn’t my choice, I still have to suffer from it. Damage control or suchlike? Fuck that shit. No one can possibly control the impossible, something that isn’t included on the choices. Just as you thought you could change your mind or make a choice to not choose or run away from hurt, it gets you right on your cervical spine straight up into your brain, slowly eating your wits up that you can’t undoubtedly repel.
30 minutes to go before that very big deal everyone had been waiting for; I was going with the flow alright, throwing silly firecrackers and stuff, blowing torotots, watching the sky all sparkly and glittery. The watching part was fun, the noise made me feel safe; it made me appreciate my 4th sense. Hearing. Sometimes, a weird thing reminds me that I’m still alive. Loud, genuine, angry, unpretentious noises. White noises, fire alarms, ringing tones, horns, et cetera. A sound that goes deep down into the drums, penetrating, piercing every single noise through my skin, like a force pushing as I respond to its strength. A reminder that I can still feel.
As I inhale the horrible smell of smoke-, which came from the after burns of the firecrackers that stunk so bad-, I became more aware that I can no longer tolerate the smell of it. The smoke seemed like a concrete wall that collapsed into my body as it pressed my lungs down. Suffocation. I rushed into my room, and closed my windows. Long breaths. Inhale. Exhale. And then Silence.
Silence always makes every bit of my past rush back. I hated it. I hated remembering the past. The past that I burnt. Like a beautiful sonnet without an ending, crippled and ripped into pieces then burnt until its ashes turns into nothing. Invisibility. The power of being able to see but not be seen. I convinced myself that my past is now invisible, erased, forgotten. 10 minutes to go, dates will be different, but things will not be. Everyday will be as ordinary and as painful as yesterday, as the day before yesterday, last two months, last year. Only dates will be different. But my life will not be. Though I want it to be. I want it to be worth living for.
Ten. Nine. Eight. Before the count goes to five, I rushed back to the garage and watched the fireworks display. Five. Four. Three. I watched the beauty of it as it whooshed up into the sky and multiply. I saw colors. Different colors. My favorite was the amethyst, my birthstone. Sometimes, I don’t seem like it, but I’m into metaphysical- like birth signs and astrology, Constellations, stars, orbits and all that.
Two. One. Boom. There goes the ultra super mega fireworks display- the hundred shots of different fireworks. Star of the night, at least here in our place. Then I blew my humongous horn wrapped with purple chicken feathers. I gave my best blow. Hard. Loud. Until I finally run out of breathe.
Now it’s 1:02am. Fireworks are gone. Streetlights are now off. The noise level went down from ten to zero. Just like last year’s new year. Brief and nostalgic. Every thought of the stunning fireworks I’ve watched an hour ago was all replaced by the thoughts of the past. Silence. It made me feel dead again.