medias res New Year's Eve, 2002.
I paused outside on the balcony for a moment to reflect -- in the back of my mind the bubbles were already beckoning the newness, yet there was still something hanging on. I did all I could to close the case. The last year was buried, yet there were still tendrils dragging in my wake, like spiderwebs, unseen, yet felt and feared.
Even so, the new year comes on without pause, regardless of my readiness. I played video games for a little while before taking a deep breath and walking out the door to head over to my friend's apartment -- a celebration of the birthing of 2003.
As I drove down Beach, the lights blurred their way past my window like I was falling, flying into the new year headlong; and you know that feeling -- head, hands and feet over handle bars and that moment of flight? That's what I felt like as I hurtled and time hurtled and the world hurtled, all of it over the handle bars and into the new year, for better, or for worse.
Another day...Just breathe...I'm used to this by now.