Friday night was very fun, and then it wasn't, and then it was good enough. What happens at three a.m.? Why is that the time that smiles stop feeling true? My night did not end the way I wanted it to, but if it had it still wouldn't have been the way I wanted it, so I guess it's alright. Good enough.

I can't wake up so far this year. I spend too much of the morning stuck in that space between sleeping and awake. All day long I get those strange chills that come with sleepiness.

I dreamt last night that we had another go at New Year's Eve, and this time everyone I wanted was in the same place. That would never happen. Even in my dream I was surprised by it. In somebody's back bedroom there was a table covered with science projects, and you could choose one to take home as a favor. I found a very small sealed tank filled with very small grey fish that swam around and around in a whirlpooly circle. I remember holding it up and saying,"It's like a flock of birds that you can carry in your pocket." The birds across the street from the Asia Bank, the barracuda in Borneo.

I dreamt a lot more, a dark pink dress, and a kidnapping, and the more I try to remember, the further away it gets.

A nice thing is that when I say to myself that this year will be miles better than last year, I know that it isn't just because I want it to be better, or need it to be better (though I do, both), but because it can't not be better. There are too many certain greatnesses to dismiss. Even the most pessimistic parts of me can see that.