Sooo… it’s not over
December 28th 2020, 11:50 p.m.
Here we are folks, the moment we’ve been waiting for the last year it’s finally coming. In three days this year will be over, but the truth is that we’ll still be here. The vaccine is coming, but nothing is changing. Actually, nothing ever changed: the Sun was still shining while we were all stuck in our houses, the Moon still rotated around our planet every day of the pandemic. People were still getting older, children kept learning how to talk, read, write. We kept ourselves alive by eating, moving, sleeping, breathing.
What I’m trying to say is… well, i don’t know. But what I know is that this pandemic made me face death every single day. Indirectly, yes, but death still felt like this urgent problem, like an insurmountable obstacle I didn’t know how to overcome. This led to something I still don’t know how to describe; a state of mind that turned me into a fragile little child who fears everything, who fears life. I wasn’t scared of living: I was filled with this strong desire to live. Something I wasn’t really used to, not because I was depressed, but because I just didn’t appreciate life that much.
However, seeing people die everyday, made it impossible for me to ignore the innate delicacy of humanity. We die, we just do. We suffer and we die. Sometimes violently, and some other times pacefully. And it’s an hard truth to accept.
So I understood that the real obstacle wasn’t death, but the fear of it. I know that for a lot of people this isn’t a big realisation, but for me it was. It changed my perspective on everything. And now I’m trying to accept it. It is not easy, not in the slightest. But the reality of death, its universality, is helping me through the process. Everyday I think about life, and what it means to be alive. And I concluded that it means nothing and everything.
When I was little, I used to think about life as a cartoon where me and the people who surrounded me were the characters, because I believed that there was something greater than life, not necessarilly a god, but something else. Something bigger than the universe itself. Now I think our own lives are the only thing there is for us. The meaning of life is life. And death is a part of it.
One day, the Sun will stop existing, and so will the Moon and the Earth with every little creature that lives on it. And I will die. I will die. I will die.
And it’s not a bad thing. It just is, as I just am. As everything just is. I wish I could have a better understanding of this, but that’s as far as I can get at the moment, I think. So… yeah. I guess that’s it. The only thing left to say is: we WILL be alright. Whatever happens.
(Yes, I’m quoting a Harry Styles’ song. Of course I am)
December 29th 2020, 01:45 a.m.
