You wake up into the early down of the New Year with so much expectations on the mind. Like been born anew, wanting all dreams and desires fulfilled before summer . . . Yet its still winter. The sky is ocean-blue with wisps of clouds, but the wind is merciless against your huddled face.
So much to dream, and little or no time to brush your teeth.
By this time last year, I was coming awake in my friend’s apartment in Mount Vernon, New York. I wasn’t happy. Or rather I wasn’t content with where I was starting. I’ve lived under people before, so its gotten easy for me to know when my stay isn’t welcomed anymore. Of course I would have packed up and left, but if only I knew where to go. The weather forecast wasn’t helping either. I’d have loved to head down south. Too bad the borders wouldn’t open to an Immigrant traveler/writer like myself.
I was waiting to attend a writers conference in New York City that was several months away at the time. My visa was meant to expire in the summer. I stayed with my friend another two months, after which I became homeless. Picture a foreigner in the States, spending homeless nights at the NYC Port Authority building, and you’ll know what I mean.
But who was I to know 2013 would start out so interesting? And now it’s 2014. My God, where did all the previous months go? Into the new, I guess.