We are all monkeys now, the year of the goat has quietly come and gone while you were asleep last night.
The goat, quiet and artistic, took with it the lives of Elliot Smith, Johnny Cash, Warren Zevon, and countless others, whose quiet reverence barely left a dent on the collective conscience. The serenity of the year, the times spent cuddling while watching tv, writing love-filled poetry, pressing my skin against his, holding his hand, calming myself to the sound of his heartbeat are all things of the past. It was a good year, one where, for the most part, I was the happiest I can remember feeling. I'm quiet and brooding, soft and sensitive, despite my 'kick ass' demeanor, which, while it makes for good poetry, really doesn't suit me well. I liked the goat. I miss the goat already.
Now we're all monkeys, and I can already feel the difference. Monkeys are politicians, with irrational and turbulent ideas, ushered prematurely by the State of the Union address yesterday, false hopes and blatant lies, and will become more evident with the ensuing bitter debate and fight for the presidency. Monkeys are ambivalent-- full of energy and curiosity, they don't have patience to let their creativity and intelligence grow, and instead spend their time like hyperactive bumps on the log. monkey's character is its ambivalence. Plenty of room to mess around, already my roommate is fooling around on his boyfriend, as far as I can tell, and I can't seem to write anymore. Stories and ideas that once seem to roll off of my tongue when preplaning and prewriting in my mind come out sloppy and uneven, unworthy of public posting or even the multiple rewrites needed.
Wood, the element for this year, also will play a big role this year, and not in the sexual way, but in rapid development, lofty idealism and innocence, easily destroyed. Wood monkeys are the worst kind, scatterbrained and disjointed, full of ideas and short on action and despite any optimism for the year, I just don't see it happening.
Monkeys are weak humans, full of pride and false confidence, and it is far to easy to compare them to myself as of late. I am not looking forward to this year, but then again, I am not looking forward to anything now, even though Rats, with their cool heads and keen minds, are supposed to fair well against the chaos of the upcoming year.
Everybody's got something to hide except for me and my monkey, except that I plan on hiding from the monkey, and who knows if I'll emerge again.
