I am family-vacation drunk, meaning I’m the only one and it’s a secret.”I really identify with fireworks on New Years Eve,” I hear myself say. No one responds. Retrospectively I assume they were stifling laughter. Oh god oh god oh god am I crying? Hold it together, hold it together, hold it together.
At 12:10 I find myself at the edge of a pool. My dad’s girlfriend asks me something and I ignore it because I am feeling saucy. I am family-vacation drunk and I am jumping in. I am entering the womb. I am underwater in a soundless world and even when I hold my breath time passes through me. I am family-vacation drunk and it’s 2012 and I feel sublime because I am the serpent eating itself alive. At first I mourn 2011, then I celebrate its death, then the distinction dissolves like sugar in water and I am in love. I am family-vacation drunk and I am an island dog holwing at the moon. I yell for my brother and for his lighter.
I am family-vacation drunk and I’ve been reading The Power of Myth and I am at the shores of the unconscious after a few shots of tequila.
Happy new year from the Caribbean!
Love,
Sally
Party Editor
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