I was your vinyl record and you sat contently watching me go in circles. You spun me till I sung my sad songs and you put me on full volume when I screamed with colour. You forced a music out of me that I didn’t know I could play. You scratched me in ways that have left marks; for these I will never be the same. And finally now as I spin to a slow and the movement around me blurs to a stop, I see how things have changed since I started turning. – A message to 2016.
It is quite impossible to write 365 days into just one post. And quite frankly, I think it would bore both you and I to sleep. I refuse to say that every day in 2016 taught me something new or showed me a great adventure. On more then a few occasions my eyes became prisoner to the television, and I’m pretty sure my couch now has a permanent indent from the imprints of my ass. There were days I did nothing; where the word productivity was of foreign remembrance and going outside seemed like a deadly task. These days may not seem worthwhile, but quiet time is just as powerful as being surrounded by noise. Beside this little escape in time, most of my days in 2016 were given to university, work, bottles of wine, tears over boys, stress and anxiety, books, and my family and friends. Here are just a few appreciations that need to be made:
To my family and friends who continue to make my heart grow; to my work – for although I may not love you, I need you (and I guess on some shifts you’re pretty okay back to me); to the male species for teaching me the difference between a man and one who’s still trapped as a boy; to the maturity of friendship – that it’s not about quantity, but quality.
My biggest thank you however would have to be at the place wear I pour my soul, heart, tears and mind into. This year I learnt that university could act simultaneously as hell and heaven, depending how hard you worked and how much you cared. I am sure I sat in both sides of these realities, there was never a in between. Like so many years before, I continued to pull the weight of other people’s responsibilities, and as much as I wish I could tell them a firm no, I simply cannot. I care too much. And that’s one of the greatest treasures I found this year. I do love what I’m doing, and I know this because the fear of failing is the reason for many fallen tears at night. I have been scared to even admit this to myself, let alone say to others, but yes – I AM A WRITER. I AM A CREATIVE. I will succeed. Knowing this has given me the power to push the boundary and apply for positions that have opened a slit in windows of opportunity. So, to the little voice in my mind that furiously attacks me with the repetitive question, ‘are you good enough?’, how about you take the back seat this coming year and let’s just wait, watch and see.
2017 you exude a concoction of emotions that are bubbling and boiling, mixing in my body. Fear and excitement seem to be the front runners with graduation, turning twenty, travelling independently and a major career movement coming just that little bit closer.
Tonight I celebrate the last year of 2016, as the way I want to start 2017. Tonight I leave the tequila shots in the bottle, I grant the busting wish of a random girl to release her bladder sooner with one less female in the toilet line, I let my bank account breathe and sigh in relief, and I save a phone company’s network one less effort to send a stressful mothers texts asking “where are you, how are you, what was that on your snapchat?”
Instead I spend it with the one person who will not be here for the next two New Years to come (that’s a whole other story). I spend it eating, watching the fireworks and then retreating back home where records, a glass of wine and a movie will be waiting. For however you are spending yours, I wish you the best of time and the happiest of memories.
Happy New Years. May 2017 be a great year for you.
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