History is a broken bottles, thousands of them, confiscation and hidden champagne. Smoke after smoke after marijuana smoke. History is high fives, the ones with strangers, the ones that hurt. People on rooftops and perched on slow cars. History is traffic but nobody cares, horns blaring, music blaring, everything is set to blaring. A rambunctious choir of joyful drunks. History is a team, one that everybody's on, people you'll never meet and meet once and never meet again. Smiles and salutes and cheers and songs. History is years of waiting, years of crying, years of living with your heart in your throat and a rock in your gut. And then the moment comes when everything goes away, you open up, everything is let go and everything comes back. History is a relief.
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