Yesterday, New Year's Eve, I was riding on the metro because I had to and I was reading Rushdie's Midnight's Children, also because Ihad to. Because last night, a big midnight was approaching, a new year was only eight or so odd hours away, and because for whatever reasons, because one day I am going to die at a certain age, after having lived through a finite number of these midnights, because of this, I was feeling the life force in a major way. I had to get out of the house and go into DC, anywhere really. I wanted to touch the moonrock, I wanted to see art, I wanted to fucking live. So, I was sitting at home on my couch reading this book that I have been off and on reading since June or so, and I read one of the many passages about midnight fast fast approaching, and I started to feel it, I knew that for some reason I had to finish this book prior to midnight, prior to the fast fast approaching 2003. And children, I did. But, why read at home on your couch when you could be reading on the metro, passing beautiful graffiti under countless overpasses and random concrete walls between Sringfield and the Van Dorn stop? And fuck it, I was feeling the pricklings in my fingertips of something great, something on the way, and these giddy fingertips turned pages with the speed speed speed.
And I got off at Smithsonian with my book, hopped skipped and jumped my way up the esalator, past some man playing a flute, into the brightness of a setting sun, a fucking setting year for god sake's. And time time time, we've got to move if we want to do anything, if we are going to accomplish anything with ourselves. The sun was nearing the horizion behind me, and I was moving on, marching towards the glimmering Capital, the legislative seat of this great land. And finally, I got to the Air and Space Museum where I had one goal: to touch the moonrock, a piece of the sky.
And I went through the metal detectors that they have nowadays everywhere and right there, right past the metal detectors, obscured by them, was a little tiny rock from the moon that I have always giddily fingered ever since I was a little kid, many midnights ago. Millions upon millions have been here too, have touched this same rock, just about every person who has ever visited this place has touched this thing before moving on to look at those Wright Brothers planes hanging from the ceiling, and fucking we have all made contact with it, all of us connected by this little pebble of moon. And fuck think of all the people who haven't touched it, those countless numbers from centuries, millenia past who have looked at this thing, a piece of which we have touched!
And then I bounded out of there, down those steps and back onto the mall with a sun even closer to the horizion, even closer to 2003, and I walked fast fast fast towards the White House to see if Rebecca was still there. She wasn't, but I got a hot dog, a motherfucking hot dog soaked in mustard and ketchup for only one dollar and fifty cents and slowly ate it like the culinary delight it was.
Wandered around some more, taking in streets, people, and billboards on buses, taking in the last sun rays of yesterday, of 2002, and now it is 2003 and there are no sun rays. None at all.
This seems like sort of a bad omen, how dreary today has been, nothing but fog, gray, and rain. But, I have high hopes for this year and my life in general after spending last night watching silly movies with my sister and reflecting over where my life is right now and how I could better live, how I could be a more fully-realized human being. And with that, I'll segue into My New Year's Resolutions:
1. To be outrageously kind-hearted. I know I can be mean-spirited sometimes, and I think this is bad for numerous reasons, among them that meanness is usually rewarded with meanness in return, and maybe I'd like a little love in my life.
2. To not associate with people with lame world-views or people that are dumb in ways that are offensive. This is where much of my meanness stems from, at the anger that builds up inside me from remaining friends with people that I find boring or just lame. Just because I have been friends with them for a long period is no reason to remain friends. And in seeming disagreement with this:
3. Make friends. Be friendly and nice.
4. Say something. Because there is some Le Tigre lyric that says "I went to your concert and you didn't say anything," and I find myself saying that to myself when I am engaged in conversation with someone and I don't want to be, when the topic is petty, is crushes, is silly inter-personal relations. Find something more meaningful to talk about, this is your fucking life you are living spending talking about crushes on stupid fags. Say something else, something real.
5. Be thankful and grateful for every fucking second, every fucking thing and body. Say a little reminder with every act, every bite that grounds you in this thought. "Praise be to God." Or "All Thanks is Due to God." Say this silently.
6. Try to get laid more often. It makes you happy. Being happy is a good thing.
7. Live more intensely. This one is the broad catch-all. Do more physical activity. Move places, do things, be as forward as possible, harness whatever creative potential you think you have. Produce more, consume less. And do it with a fucking smile.