Oinos (WiP)

[Sepia]

So, here we are. At last, again. Once more,

again

The maestro is cold around his heart as he begins the count, One!



A thousand departed friends but mostly it's me, the dear departed, dead in any way that counts, not counting six feet, yet, but I dream of it when I stare into the air from the rooftop balcony, there's no view but there are buildings that aren't too bad at the eyes, giant behemoths of steel and glass, filled with new pride, the building is a sharp thing, an ugly object, towering over its predecessors like a playground bully, the new and shiny, the old and decaying, the buildings someone sits on in an up and coming area they say and the building are old so they have to keep the façade and instead of fixing, they're doing what they have to and wait, they're waiting for the house to die so they can eat its flesh and give birth to new houses, stronger, better and improved, more streamlined

Summer whimpers out as the colours gradually fade, something is moving out there but I'm too stoned to accept or understand it and I sleep, autumn arrives and passes as there are only five leaves left but winter doesn't come, there are weeks of cold but as the year ends, we're still waiting [little bit more on the peculiarity of weather]

[bit here about new years party, musing over new years party]

[anxiety, buildup, sustain - a bigger/big one on the party itself, watch fear and loathing scene, walt whitman]

[meeting of Bababababababalon, arrival and departure, should re-read that instead of reading forward the foundation you shit]