Another year gone. War abroad. Inflation at home. Hearings in between. Families struggling, politicians posturing, the planet heating.
The ball dropped in Times Square, champagne spilled, resolutions were made that won’t outlive January. Midnight was treated like magic, as if the calendar itself could reset reality.
It can’t. Today is the same as yesterday, only with a new number at the top. The circus doesn’t end when the fireworks fade. It just changes costumes.