Fireworks and Bullets

Today is the first day of my new life.

I spent new year's eve with my best friend's family (my first away from home) and it was great.
We had yummy steak with french bread and lots of salad. There was also drinks with tapioca (my favorite!) and black jelly. I brought some sparklers to usher in the new year with bright lights and no noise while his dad had bullets to welcome the new dawn in with a bang.

Before that night, I had never seen anyone fire a gun in my entire life.

I was naive enough to think that it wasn't what it actually was (probably just some crazy firework or something), but tension set in when my best friend started screaming for it to stop (it would be sad to kill anything human or otherwise). Then it hit me that the thing I'm supposed to fear the most last night was just across from me in the room (the gun, not the dad). Funny how that small ugly inanimate metal object could instill such a paralyzing fear in my heart (or maybe im just chicken shit).

But we got over that (i think) a short while after and retreated to the music room where my friend had already started on his yearly tradition of playing his guitar loud enough to wake the dead (don't get me wrong, his freestyle way of music is impressively good). Me and his sister watched and applauded til his fingers hurt from playing too much.

The fireworks had died down early this year (around 2am), but the fireworks inside me are still surprisingly loud. I am happy, ecstatic even. I don't even have to define why.

I'm sure it's going to be a pretty darn good year ahead......