In the year 2011 B.C. (before covid), I started my very first journal. I could've gone digital at the time, but I thought that if everything was hand-written, it'd be more personal. I could draw, I could change the font willy-nilly. And above all, it'd just be cooler to hold a physical piece of time in your hands.
I was 12 back then. And the world was very very different. At least, my world was different. Being 21 now, I realised that the world is always the same. As the adage goes, "history repeats itself". There'll always be controversy, struggle, tears, and celebration, achievements, and laughter. The difference is whether you perceive the former more than the latter, or vice versa. God when did I become such an academic doofus in my writing.
I mean looking back, I used to write every meticulous detail using words like frickin or holy shinx (as in the Pokémon). My entries were always headed by a title, the date and time, the chapter number and just a super long description of why I like pizza or something.
Look at me now, justifying paragraphs and stuff.
But yeah reader, as you probably notice in my blog I haven't written in a long time. In fact, I've only completed two journals between 2012 and 2017. I figured it was worth it for future Syafiq to be able to look back and be like "woahhhh, I forgot this happened". That, and maybe I could publish my journals and make BIG BUCKS MUAHAHAHHA *ok no sorry
And then....everything just stopped. Life changed. Or did I change? Huh, look at that. I wrote four paragraphs already. By now, I'd read everything again and backspace it all into non-existence. But I feel like, right here, at the edge of 2021, I'll light a lantern and send it off.
Just to see what happens y'know. I'll talk more about this in my next entry. If you're reading this far, then man...you are amazing. I really appreciate it, cuz I understand why they say pay attention y'know. It ain't cheap. So again, thank you.
Righto, let's begin. Welcome, dear reader, to Decemberland!
December. Throughout my entire life, the month of December felt like it held an extremely special place in my heart. And I couldn't quite pinpoint exactly why. Last month of the year? Hype for next years' games and movies? A step closer to flying cars? ("what's that Elon?......whaddya mean 'already built'??")
We tend to go into December thinking bout January. What a babe, that January. Cuz man, the next year seems real promising I tell ya. A blank canvas just screams success, a plethora of new experiences. 5...4...3...2...1....
H A P P Y N E W Y E A-
BAM! Loss, betrayal, everything you said you were gonna do didn't happen. This year sucked, but that's okay cuz we got next year. Such is the vicious cycle many of us fall prey to. "Damn Syafiq, might as well call this post *sparkle* Depressionland *sparkle*". Okay, I think it's time for me to confess.
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| *Ahem* |
What you're reading now isn't the real post. Alright, plot twisttttt. Wow this is like Doofenshmirtz and his flashbacks. "Decemberland" is actually very very different. It all started on the eve of December, November 30th. I was lying in bed productively sleeping as all 21 year olds do. And it was that time of year again where I felt like doing something different in my life. So I stayed up after Subuh, came up with a blogpost idea to revive the site, and started working on the poster all morning.
I was proud. It had been months since I had embarked on a project like this. I started writing and writing but....none of it had the same flare. The same zeal. The same oomph as my previous entries. I wrote and erased, again and again. As I was writing, ghosts of insults-past swirled around my room.
"I think its mediocre"
"I don't get it"
"It's too long"
Granted, these were valid pieces of criticism. But instead of a bulletproof vest, I felt like I donned a sheet of A4 paper.
Days go by. I visit the blog occasionally, but to no avail. Weeks. And so Decemberland was folded and tucked into the place where all my unfinished projects went. Life went on, assignments, friends, occasional outings-
"Woah woah woah, you went out during Covid???"
.....okay "mental" outings *crosses fingers*. But the thought lingered in the back of my mind. I had to tell my story. I had to show the world what December meant to me. So with a jolt of energy, I slammed my fingers onto the keyboard and did it. Decemberland was born!.....as a Twitter thread. This one.
It was over. I had encompassed everything I wanted to say in that thread. The splendor and wonder of Christmas, getting lost in starry-eyed ideas and possibility, the dichotomy of something ending and something else beginning. It was perfect.
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| And yet...I wasn't happy |
Why? It didn't make sense. I did it. I mean...I didn't get to use the poster but I did it right? The thought lingered in my head. During my online classes, in the middle of gaming sessions with a bunch of friends, even amidst all the laughter, Decemberland never left my mind. Was I crazy?....okay don't answer that
Fast forward till today. This very moment. 11:16PM on New Years Eve. It took me a whole year to finally, truly, write from the inner depths of my heart. Dear reader, I am hereby making a solemn vow, that I will write by the beauty of the pen, and the wonders of the mind. The follies of the heart, and the world that is sublime. ape bende hang cakap ni
You see...every single draft that never got published in my blog was because I felt like I was writing wrong. No one would read this. No one would care. And if they did read it, they wouldn't like it.
I felt alone.
And the world didn't want that. Just look at everyone outside, having a blast with their lives. Why can't I just be normal and not think so much. But now, in this window of time, do I realise that though the writer says goodbye, the pen must never die. I invalidated my own struggles simply because I felt like I shouldn't be this weak. I shouldn't care about writing so much. I shouldn't let something so trivial like this make me down in the dumps.
But you know what? I believe every struggle should be recognised. Every tear is valuable. And every story is worth hearing. Those things were uttered to me before, but it was as though I was an upside-down cup amidst a curtain of rain. I can never go back to the days I was a kid. That sucks. But I gotta keep moving forward. It took New Years for me to finally publish a piece of my heart. Something that I had written for me, without thinking about every single reader who's gonna read this.
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| Seeing is believing, but sometimes the most real things in the world are things we can't see -Polar Express (2004) |
And that's the end dear reader. If you read this far, then I hope at least a smidget of what I had written benefitted you or at least entertained you hahaha *awkward silence*
No but for rea-eh...lupa besarkan. No but for real though, thank you for reading this far. Future blog posts won't be this confusing, like it's one thing, but then it's actually another. If I keep this up Christopher Nolan might call me.
Man I feel like I invited a guest into my messy home (╥﹏╥ ). This was such an unorthodox post. I usually start with the poster, but I went for a picture instead. But I'm glad I got something out. Phew,11:50pm, just in the nick of time.
Anyhoo, who knows what the next year will hold. But whatever it is, I'm looking forward to it. I got WAAAAY more stories and tales to share with you guys about all sorts of things. Also, I am planning on re-writing my novel that I lost back in 2013 hahah
"....what"
That's a story for another day xD. Until next time, peace! Oh and here's the link to the real Decemberland post in case you missed it.
