December, 31st, 2019- 11:59
It all started here. One minute before a new year is welcomed.
In one minute, the world was about to witness a dystopian reality. The countdown starts. Midnight is approaching, and while families were together, friends cheered to a new beginning, and lovers kissed in unison, the universe was plotting a mass murder.
January, 1st, 2020- 00:00
People danced down in the streets like drunken butterflies. Some, eroded by sleep. The light of both imageries gradually fades. It shrinks to a tiny memory, and is finally extinguished altogether. All is left is a recollection of past events, somewhere in the consciousness. All sense of space is secluded, all significance is dismantled, and everything is detached, leaving behind, the presence of December.
It is a new year, perhaps a new era. The world seemed like a dismal puzzle with missing pieces. The atmosphere was enveloped with anguish, like some sort of disfigurement. At night, the moon seemed bitter and alien. There is something hostile in the air. It either yields, and the heart sinks into cheerlessness, or else, it is unpredictably stern, pressing discomfort through the chest.
3 days in, the world wakes up to the banging sound of drone strikes.
Here it goes: let the dystopia begin.
Political conflicts between Iran and the US sparked speculations about the launch of a World War III. (We can’t deny how good the memes were though)
Another day, Australian forests turned to dust. Fire, devoured everything on its way.
The clock is racing. Nobody can outrun it. Nobody can stop it.
The outbreak of a new fatal virus in China makes the head news.
A few weeks in, the world wakes up to a tragedy in the NBA and basketball scene. Kobe Bryant and his daughter, Gianna, died in a helicopter crash.
Now February is leading the way. The hope of a better tomorrow is a common prayer. Palms are open to a silent sky. Everyone is oblivious to what the next day could bring. People live with the hopeful belief that perhaps, things can change in a day; that the pile-up of hours can shift the outcomes of a lifetime. In this narrative, hope is the back bone of the story.
March did not have the same vision. More people are dying due to virus outbreak. Italy is falling to the ground. Spain is reeking of death and demise. France is kneeling to the feet of the virus. Morocco starts to close up.
Before the lockdown, two hearts were together. These are the mad ones, the ones who never yawn of tiredness. Two souls tremendously in love burst in laughter. Sink into each others’ eyes. They knew; the future is dark but the darkness shall fade.
The earliest moments of waking up are amnesic. The limbs are warm and heavy with sleep. Everything is blank until you remember. It’s April! Death is increasing. People are locked in their houses. Everyone is longing for something. Everyone is afraid of something. Smiles are drenched in despair and all is left is a cloth of humanity. Are we going to make it? Is this the end?
May appears to be docile. Everything about is calm. Maybe the storm is over. Death is decreasing. People are hopeful. Astronauts are in space. Everything seems good. Until it’s not.
News of racial murder and police brutality shake the public opinion, worldwide. Once in a while, you’ll hear shit like: “black people invented these sorts of stories to make up for their wretched lives.”
But, history lingers. Think of that human chained to a wall, dripping sweat and fear. His back whooped until he bleeds. His knees stutter; he cannot stand straight. Now he tries to breathe, but bullets riddle his flesh before he even opens his mouth.
Think of the many victims of hate crimes, their legacy, the rampage after their death. Think about the way racism can be hereditary. How it chooses its agents amongst people with an advantage: white privilege.
It’s June, and perhaps what’s coming is better. At least that’s what everyone is hoping for.
Meanwhile, can we all agree that 2020 is not our year, but it is totally THE year?
🧠 Opinions : Les points de vue exprimés dans cet article sont strictement ceux de l'auteur et ils ne reflètent pas forcément ceux de Pokemag