Goodie GOODIE

There was a brand new sparkle of tinged foliage and musique en français to bring in the New Year. A pot of butter pasta and butterfly shrimp scattered on a tray to support and warm our fiend-ish hearts. Posture like a grandma. We can cook a meal in 30 minuets and converse about 50 other topics. Everyone always just almost misses countdown. Red faces and tears being pushed out of my skull from laughing way too hard. All men have secret savings. Bobbing your head instead of swaying your hips to a big black speaker. Dancing all slump and stiff as we clenched our bodies to ourselves as the beat continued. Stirring sticks do belong in big sofas. Hearing chaos below you and being told that you look interesting by a threesome of move script strangers. You feel like acidic shit but everything's gonna be okay. Everything was more than okay. We witnessed the havoc of New Year's Eve festivities take a toll on the city. Walked the streets like we knew things cause we were the only ones standing. Giggling fits that trail our path. Broken dreams made at the broken hub that used to be home. But the people that you see and hear while standing in the middle of everything make you feel less of a monster. The passerby conversations and reunions. When the goal of your night is to get a hot dog, you know no other priorities. It's a different world on the very last day. Everything from 10PM Dec. 31 - 8AM Jan 1 meant everything.