New Year’s Eve
Usually, during New Year’s Eve, my family would go to a relative’s house and stay there until the new year, lighting fireworks and whatnot outside the house as per tradition; I’m sure everyone knows what this is like. It’s been done every year of my life, something I’ve come to expect and experience whether I want to or not. A usual thing. Then again, looking at really shiny explosions of all sorts, shapes and sizes was never boring.
That is. Until recently. Until today.
Let’s take some factors into consideration. I’m now in college, and so the entire Christmas break seriously felt like a mere long break instead of giving me that special holiday feeling that I’ve, to date, have always felt before for ever year prior. That, combined with a certain deadline I had to meet on the 31st and my mother’s recent condition had me … staying home. For the first time in years, I spent my new year at home.
And for the first time in my life, I practically spent my new year’s alone.
The experience was quite unique to me. While everyone else in the world was firing fireworks like there was no tomorrow, I was merely doing the last touch-ups on my work and minding the small requests that my mother asked of me from time to time.
By the time I finished with work, I spent the rest of the time walking around the house. It felt so surreal. On a day like this, I was on my own. Almost a foreshadowing of a future life I could have … on my own on new year’s doing work. The mere thought of that gave me some chills …
But a little while later it occurred to me that I was pretty much free to do anything until 12 AM hit. So what did I do before the 12 AMs years before? I’d be either outside watching or lighting fireworks, or most likely sitting on a couch listening to music, playing on a portable console or on a guitar.
People say there are certain things you can do on a new year that may grant you extra luck. The one example I recall was jumping when 12 AM came with coins or something to make that year a financially successful one. With that in mind, I tried something different, and something I’ll remember forever with this post as a stark reminder.
I left the computer, picked up the acoustic, opened some curtains to reveal the firework-lit sky,
started playing the guitar,
and started singing.
2011 was the year when I finally found more reason to not give a damn anymore if my voice’s range was so low. Somewhere deep inside me, I’ve always wanted to sing as best as I could, and now that I’m finally able to do that after eighteen years of my life, I want to make sure I get to that goal. So I played and sang to wish luck on that specific endeavor, where I can truly be unashamed of my voice and what I can sing with it, that no other person in this world can ever replicate. My voice, my passion for music, my song.
I played most of my originals. It was almost 12 AM in a few minutes, so I decided to perform the one song that started it all, To Say Hello.
The song was finished.
The fireworks roared louder than before at the end of it all.
12 AM struck.
The performer stood up, to the windows, and thanks to a certain dare given by a friend,
He shouted …