// 1.1.11.//

On the first day of the year, afternoon becomes morning. This morning is always gray and blue. I can’t really recall a sunny one, it’s like the weather is sick from cheap champagne too.

I’m writing this piece sitting in a old-fashioned diner in Queens.

It’s very quiet. Streets are nearly empty. The snow is melting and makes pavements look shiny and colorful form streetlight reflections.

The City is recovering from its hangover. It is getting dark, as I’m ordering my breakfast.

Theoretically it is just the number. Nothing has changed since Friday night to Saturday morning.

But there’s certain amount of hope in this grayness. Certain sound of joy in this silence.

That after this one night, the future, once again,  stands wide open. And you’re a part of it.

Countless possibilities, but what about the fear?

Of the unknown, of the future, which, yes, stands wide open but who knows what is there for you.

Fear of the failure. We all know, that new years resolutions don’t last longer than a week, if you don’t really desire a change. And even if you do…We can go like this forever.

When I think about past year., places that I had seen, people that I have met.

It makes me feel a little less scared.

To look life in a face[1], remember ?

Last year I made my life, my own.

This year, I feel like quoting Calvin Klein Be commercial, as a deep source of knowledge :

Even if it’s screaming fun, anything but indifference, you know, when its not love, it’s not hate and it’s not sex, it’s not anything really. Just one more bad habit you’ve got to break.

Break your habits on a gray morning

K.

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[1] One of the most significant lines, M. Cunningham, The Hours :

 To look life in a face, always, to look life in a face, and to know it, for what it is.

 To know it, to love it,, and then to put it away.

(…) always the years between us, always the years, always the love, always the hours.