There comes a time in everybody’s life when they wonder what will become of them. Sometimes, it’s simply because they don’t know, but where the world is their oyster. But then there are those who are the oyster: quiet, shy and silently making something unexpected.
Now, I don’t pretend to be more special than anybody else out there. But fact is, I don’t fit in, and I’ve never fit in. I’m not normal. It’s a title not of my choosing. It’s highlighted by the fact that for as much as people have tried to put me in a certain box, I was unable to fit in properly, because I don’t have the square shape that allows for it. Despite this, I was forced into one, and that seemingly upset the very people who put me in there in the first place, because I was ruining the box, reshaping it into unrecognisable shapes.
That brings me on to the title. This past year, with COVID-19 affecting so many people, it has made me realise that the only way to survive a real tempest and true havoc, is by having been shaped by them in the first place. Unfortunately, far too many people still retain most corners of their square shapes, having had far too few chances of having had them cracked, split off or worn down. The realisation that square boxes aren’t the walls of life and the world is, perhaps, in itself already a daunting notion.
Originally, the title of this blog post was going to be “How COVID-19 brought us out of the industrial era”, but it sounded far too Times Magazine-esque. Instead, I chose to echo what has been told to me countless times in times when the world was built by the norm, for the norm. COVID-19 certainly has thrown a wrench into the cogs of normality, and I’ve absolutely revelled in it. Honestly, I have enjoyed seeing the world fall apart a little bit in 2020. “Some men just want to watch the world burn”, you say. That’s not what I’m saying. I am, however, a firm believer of there being no light, joy or love without also darkness, sadness and misery.
My biggest worry in today’s world is that we have forgotten where we come from. We have stopped acknowledging the difference in every human, and started handing out prizes to everybody for merely getting in line, lest we get left behind. People fear being alone and not heard over the cries of those who tear each other apart for a front-row seat to the show “Life is a magical place where we pretend misery doesn’t exist”. Well, I hope, for your sake, that this year has cut off the legs of the beast of conformity, and that they don’t grow back anytime soon.
Why am I telling you all this? The answer was already hinted at before: I have absolutely thrived in the world of 2020. While, for a majority of people, the year 2020 will forever leave a scar, this is one of the few years in my existence that have not whipped enormous scars into my back. While I personally don’t foresee, or even hope for, every year being this overwhelmingly positive, I absolutely also understand why most people would do anything to, year after year, feel like I have felt in 2020. I hope, for the sake of humanity, that this year has left deep enough of a scar to have shaped more people into being unique and to do not what the world wants them to do, but what life, experiences, and suffering have shaped them into.
Finntrovert 