So I was quite excited to head down to the massive, apparently rising star that is Edinburgh Gardens for new year’s eve.
After all, it’s Melbourne, moreover, it’s Fitzroy North dang it, where the kooky, the greens, the hipsters and the art-smarts commune, right? There’s bound to be kookiness and artiness, right? some soul, old school hip hop playing, perhaps some guitars even, should be pretty chilled out yet festive, social yet smartass, weird yet accepting, right?
Drink, drugs, rave, trash, and I have a feeling that it would be pretty shit if one would come there without a group of friends.
Well, at least I am not in Afghanistan. Or Syria. Although I am quite intrigued by those researchers trapped in Antartica. Good or bad, only a few can tell that particular new year’s eve story.
Oh and at least we saw fireworks. My somewhat naive sentiment towards fireworks is that they are a tinge of populism in this selfish world. At least once a year, people in a city get to see something amazing for free.
Maybe I should have drunk some coffee.
New Year’s Resolution: get rid of ‘should haves’?
Drink more coffee? Ahh not.