You ever read a novel or watch a movie like James Bond or Mission Impossible were larger-than-life secret agents prevent a world devastating outbreak of one chemical weapon or some sort of bio warfare. That’s what 2020 looks like, except this time they didn’t prevent the outbreak, tragic.
Here’s an illustration
The world is like a train, in this 21st century it’s more like a bullet train. It moves in rhythm and speed, faster and more advanced it goes by each mile. Inside the train I sit alone on stark white table next to the window with headphones on to block out the world. I abruptly lift my eyes from solitude to look around, the train is teeming with people. Some sit in groups, some sit alone, others are noisy and move about while others sit, watch and listen to the whirl of the fast moving train. The train is always moving, devouring mile after mile, landscape after landscape.
Suddenly a buckle and a shriek, then smoke arises, the train moves slower and slower, it resorts to a slow jog then lumbers along till it falls to a dead stop. Around me wide eyes and grim faces start the rise of panic. “What’s happened?” “Why’s the train stopped?” the questions start to simmer, the answer however is even more grave. It begins as a cough or two then a cold shudder, some start to hurl, others turn away in convulsion. The untouchable and unseeable plague rogues the train.
Panic. When heart beats began to stop panic ran free, touched every soul with horror they could not unsee. Most sat away from others and felt safe and cacooned, some minds and hearts shattered as they watched others die. But there’s this steely resolve in the human condition, bled out the fear and forced strength to fruition. It began slowly it did but help finally ensued, the innovation in man that advanced the fast moving train.
A certain sanity was restored in the train, the mood was less tense, the tint less dark. The train began to move, spurred on by the human condition. It weazed and coughed but filled with character it lumbered on. Inside the train it was quiet, confined to themselves eyes were deep in thought, others were shocked and fearful, others looked optimistic and hopeful. “What to do?” “What to say?”
The train trudges into a tunnel and it all becomes dark, we sat perplexed and expectantly for the light on the other side.
“Will things ever be the same?”
Each of us blessed to look past 2020 will have a story to tell. Fortunes to be appreciated and misfortune to be scorned yet appreciated still. There are people missed, friends and family gained. Loses taken and wins to be discovered.
I consider myself quite fortunate by the end of 2020. I had covid-19 at some point and was asymptomatic, I recovered a lot didn’t. I spent most of the year wondering what to do with myself now I write and I have The Journal, I have university to look forward to and a whole lot of improvements in myself to make.
In many regards it has been quite the difficult year. But if you’re reading this right now, you’ve got something to look forward to. To a lot condolences must be given and for everyone a congratulations is deserved.
Keep your face always toward the sunshine – and shadows will fall behind you -Walt Whitman