If I were a flower, I would be an orchid, one of those that smell like vanilla or chocolate, depending on your nose's opinion.
I hate New Years.  I feel that it's the most anti-climactic day of the year.  All this waiting and expectation, partying and lists of resolutions that are left in jeans washed, ink and intention lost.  Fundamental, self-change is not something that can happen from one second to another, simply because the date on the calendar.  But change is something that can alter the fundamentals of your world within seconds.  Words are said, bottles of liquor are emptied, bones are broken, kisses given, tears shed, friends made and betrayed, love fallen in and out of.  We can't make sense of everything; this would be senseless.  We are all on an unpredicatable roller coaster feeling that everyone else has their shit together and we're alone on this ride.  But if we don't attempt to hold each other's hands, whether it be for now or for never, forever, we drown in loneliness and build walls that bulldozers grow to fear.
The times they ARE a' changin', our generation growing more aware of each other, social welfare, mother earth.  We are gaining representation, as our new President has stepped up, representing the patchwork brilliance that is our truth.  Labels can easily be given, but with what facility are they defined?  Why the need to segregate, label and shelve our skin cells according to melatonin and not according to the love and hope in our hearts, the pain we have endured, the common blood that runs through all of our veins as it does through rivers? 
"God" does not take sides, though both sides believe the other to be the bad guy.  Fear controls our every move-- most of this shit we worry about never happens anyway (Tom Petty), and life is lost before it has been seized.  I don't give a shit if Oprah has gained weight, what people I do or don't know do when no one is looking; I don't care if you driving a fucking ferrari and vacation on the most expensive island in the world.  You are still gonna end up being eaten by worms eventually, mixed in with dirt and feces to create beautiful flowers no one will care to smell because they do not dare.  I wanna know your reality, what you truly are inspired and moved to do but for some reason can't.
"I try my best to be just like I am, but everybody wants me to be just like them." (B. Dylan)  It's time for a strike against Maggie's repressive farm, time to stop planning, stop worrying, and start showing the generosity and empathy your ego forces you to ignore.