Black Mask
2011 began alone: I slid on my clothes and shoes, said goodbye to Sally and snuck out of the hostel. I didn’t have any idea where I was going or what I was going to do but sleeping next here didn’t feel the least bit right. It was spitting and the rain had turned the streets into long brown stretches of ice and mud in the overcast morning light. I was alone outside; too late for partygoers and still too early for everyone else. My feet carried me, as they always do, back to Mehringdamm, Victoria Park and without really knowing it I was standing at the foot of the Potsdam Monument overlooking the city. Firework shells and half empty alcohol bottles from the night before lay everywhere, busy sinking back into the snow where they wouldn’t bother anyone anymore. The steps to the top were iced over and my gloves got soaked through from grasping on to the walls. The view was not amazing. Clouds were moving fast and low over the city, hiding every remnant of colour, sucking it from the landscape. I would love to say I was moved by what I saw but as I stood there, wind slowly cutting through my jacket, no epiphany descended upon me, I didn’t see any purpose in my life, there was not great revelation to put everything from the last year into perspective. Nothing happened. I just stood there, wind pushing my hair across my face, watching grey clouds skim grey rooftops. I had always wanted to listen to ‘Strictly Game’ on New Year’s so I could sing ‘this will be a better year’ and feel good about myself. My iPod died the day before and in a way it was all oddly fitting, predetermined even; an ever present reminder of choices and consequences. I rang in the new year, for the most part at least, the same way I lived the old one: feeling alone for no good reason. Everything has been provided for me in this life, placed before me, waiting to be used. I know its there and I know how lucky I am. I need do no more than reach out and grab it, piece it all together and watch it grow in front of my eyes. Instead I do nothing. I stand on top of hills watching grey cities under grey clouds and leave myself to the ebb and flow of the tide. I sit on the banks and watch life float by. I do nothing, I appear ungrateful. This was not the start of a new year so much as it was the overdue and drawn out death of an old one: an ever present reminder of choices and consequences - apathy is met with apathy, grey and grey make grey. We are all responsible for what happens in our lives, we are all bottles and fireworks sinking into cold brown mush. It takes a person of special strength to break free and not be consumed.
I made my way down from the hilltop and continued wandering through the streets, still no idea where I was going, oblivious to everything and everyone.
