Observations – A 2004 Report on the Progress of the New Year’s Revolution

8:00 PM

family dinner. mouths are chewing the fruits of civilisation.

ingesting caked chronology. eating evolution. anthropology

never tasted so good.

9:00 PM

human bodies dance in the designated living room to remind

themselves briefly that they are living, as the room implies.

family members forget that they are unhappy with wine and

dance mix ninety-two (92). both are aged for consumption.

10:30 PM

people pick me up and we drive to a bar called Abstract and it is,

like all bars. it serves a purpose but not past one (1) AM.

after that, patrons will forage for fuel food and sex.

between stimuli there is little difference.

11:00 PM

people here drink time. it tastes bad and trims the mind with subtle

knowing (this is similar to the family dinner environment). there are

balloons floating everywhere and a jungle of ribbons. there is a

drunken man with a beard who stomps on the balloons that have lost

their helium power. he crushes them like heads and they emit bursting

cloudscreams that are getting really annoying. every damn five (5)

seconds. girls hug him. i am frightened

12:00 AM

everyone cheers and kisses with existential fervour, madmindless

and in the chains of time. meat howls. a big screen washes eyes

with cathode rays and shows Toronto as if it were any different than

here, now, during current orbital position. “Well, it’s a new year,”

i hear, when there is no such thing.

2:00 AM

i rescue a red balloon and take it to my househome for

observation and sentimentality.

6:00 PM

it does not float anymore. the lifespan of a balloon is not

long. it is in a state of strange buoyancy where gravitational

pull is marginal – i tap it and it hovers gracefully. the

bright red colour remains undiminished. it is dying naturally.

i have extrapolated that Kronos and Dionysus are indeed still

active and probably married. the New Year’s revolution must

wait for yet another orbital count.