A New Year

It's a new year. Feels like I should make some commentary. I don't have anything to say. There isn't much I care about anymore. Music bores me. I don't know any people. There's no image I want to capture. I don't even want to go anywhere. I can't sleep when I should- and I can't wake when I sleep. I dream a thousand dreams each night but never feel anything in them. I haven't dreamed of flying for years now- I used to all the time. My mind has no escape. What's worse is that it doesn't want to. I have few words anymore to tell anything by. I don't wait anymore, nor do I hope. I just sit. There is a vast difference between waiting and sitting. I have nothing to wait for. Maybe I never did.
When I was a kid I loved this time of year- the dawn of a new year. It used to mean something- another year older, a fresh beginning, putting behind the past and welcoming the new. . . What should I welcome this year. 2013. Even the number feels familiar and old, like I've done it already. I thought I saw a dime today that said 2014 on it, and I got excited. That's something new! I thought. Realizing the actual year gave my eyes the perspective needed to see it was just another dime stamped years ago. My eyes are tired. My soul feels nearly exhausted.
I've played in the same pool-hall for nearly ten years now. Two weeks ago I was called a cheat, not once, but twice in one night. I haven't been back yet. I had just regained a serious interest in the game.
I don't want to write. I don't want to play. I don't want to meet new people- I've had enough of them for quite a while. The old ones never really disappear. Give me a moment or two and I can recall everyone I've ever known. Parts or them may be missing, but none are ever forgotten. I should put that theory to pen and paper sometime. That would be an interesting list. I can't recall some of their faces, and names are easily duplicated, but sometimes it's a glimpse of hair in a certain light, or a scent that can bring a person rushing through my mind. I remember one tug on my shirt sleeve, or one moment of laughter, and everything about them is suddenly here again. Good and bad.
I stay awake until my eyes burn because I need to feel a desire for something. When I urge for sleep I have purpose. I have something to fight, or something to fall into. Either way I am fulfilled.
This year will bring me closer to whatever is coming, and further from what is gone. For that it will be a good year, but I will not welcome it all the same.