Is it joy or hope or self-destruction fueling a mad-dash end and raucous beginning? New chances and dreams littered among old wreckage of who we were and are. Mourning helps you see through empty traditions and false expectations. Ring in! Ring in! Ring in! Was I the only one with my fingers crossed on the 21st? Ring In! Ring in! Ring in! Hope and confetti are soon swept away in a glaring cold, new year’s wind: We are the same. And today is no more or less than yesterday.