January,1, 2024

{Kidult- By Seventeen}

In the heart of the bustling city, as the clock about to struck midnight and the new year dawned, I found myself caught in a symphony of celebration. The metro, a vessel of stories and emotions, carried me through the night, its rhythmic clatter harmonizing with the beats of my contemplative heart.

In the midst of the revelry,surrounded by revelers who radiated happiness and excitement. The atmosphere was infectious, yet I couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment. The thoughts that lingered in my mind were like shadows, casting doubt on the celebratory spirit that enveloped those around me.

"Why's everyone so happy? What are they celebrating for?" 

I mused, gazing out of the metro window reflecting the exuberant faces. each one a chapter in the grand novel of existence. The background was painted with the strokes of ordinary yet extraordinary moments—cute exchanges, whispered secrets, and the quiet surrender of a tired soul seeking respite.

 Opposite me, A man in an army uniform clutched a bouquet of flowers, the vivid red shaded colors contrasting with the muted tones of his attire. Was he on a mission to surprise his wife, girlfriend, or perhaps his daughter? The ambiguity tugged at my heartstrings, leaving me to weave my own narrative of love and anticipation.

A couple in cute matching attire, laden with shopping bags, shared laughter and whispers, their joy a testament to the shared adventures that had colored their journey. 

 In the distant corner, a young guy, draped in a hoodie adorned with galaxies, lay in a nap-induced surrender, his book, is that physics or something? peeking out as silent witnesses to his academic struggles but a testament to his grand dream. 

Each fleeting moment, a story etched in the tapestry of life, unfolded around me.

The idea of joyous celebrations seemed elusive to me, and the prospect of a fresh start felt like a distant mirage. A voice within me questioned whether life was truly worth celebrating, and if the pursuit of happiness was merely a never-ending cycle that left everyone exhausted.

As the countdown commenced, I glanced out of the window, drawn to the burst of fireworks that painted the sky with brilliant hues. The young boy too had woken up appreciating the beauty unfolding out of the windows. The kaleidoscope of colors reflected in the eyes of my fellow passengers, and for a fleeting moment, the barriers between us dissolved. In the shared wonder of the spectacle, we were connected by a collective appreciation for the beauty that adorned our lives.

  Everyone seems to be greeting each other. A joyful- "Happy New Year", so happy, so full of life. Yet here I stood, seemingly devoid of life, still in this metro. For them, the year had changed—a time to start anew. But for me, everything seemed the same.

 I boarded this train on December 31, 2023, alone, and here I was on January 1, 2024, still alone. The icy hands of time seemed to have left me colder, untouched by the warmth of the celebrations. 

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

As the train rumbled on, I yearned for a place where I could escape the prying eyes, where no one would recognize me. Yet, the thought of such isolation also sent shivers down my spine. Loneliness loomed as a formidable specter, and I grappled with the paradox of desiring both anonymity and connection...

Stepping out of the metro, I continued my solitary walk through the cold, empty streets. Familiar landmarks stood like silent sentinels, witnesses to the passage of time. The small exquisite apartment by the corner, bathed in the soft glow of a street lamp, told its own story.  A subtle smile played on the lips of the woman beyond that distant window, left me wondering about the lives that unfolded behind those walls, the laughter and tears that echoed within the confines of that seemingly ordinary abode.

Passing by another familiar home at the crossroads, I noticed the absence of a child who used to practice dance by the window every day. The break in his consistency intrigued me. Life, I realized, was a tapestry of unspoken narratives, and I reveled in the mystery of the untold stories that surrounded me.

As I approached my humble abode, I couldn't help but reflect on the grand gestures of celebration that seemed to dominate the world outside. While I detested such ostentatious displays, a simple letter and flowers would be a treasure beyond measure. The yearning for genuine connection, for someone to understand the quiet desires of my heart, echoed within me...

Entering my cozy apartment, my room embraced me with its chaos—the scattered books, the scent of coffee, and the soft purrs of my cats. The view from my window, seemingly unremarkable to most, held the charm of familiarity. The quiet streets, the distant sounds of celebration, and the comforting solitude wrapped around me like a warm blanket. The world outside may have changed its calendar, but within the walls of my haven, the essence of who I was remained unaltered. 

In the quiet solitude of my cozy haven, I found myself nestled in a favorite corner, a worn blanket draped over my shoulders as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped the air. With a steaming cup cradled between my palms, I opened the weathered pages of my diary, its parchment a canvas for the inked tales of my thoughts. 

As I took a sip of the rich, comforting brew, the warmth cascaded down my throat, a sensory delight that mirrored the comforting embrace of my sanctuary. The subtle symphony of snow and the gentle hum of the radiator provided the soundtrack to my solitude.

"In the quietude of my haven, I find solace in the symphony of stories that surround me."

The ink flowed seamlessly, capturing the essence of my emotions. The act of putting pen to paper felt like an intimate dance, a choreography of words that mirrored the dance of snowflakes outside.

"The celebration outside may have been grand, but within the sanctuary of my space, the small details spoke volumes. As the clock marched forward, I carried with me the collective heartbeat of the metro, the bursts of fireworks, and the glimpses into the lives of those I passed by. In the lyrics of a song, yet unwritten but felt within, the emotions of relatability, thoughtfulness, and heartfelt connection resonated—a melody that echoed the essence of a new year, a new chapter, and the undying hope for something unchangeable..."

With the final words, I closed my diary, the pages now imprinted with the inked chronicle of my introspection. As the coffee cup, now cool to the touch, sat as a silent witness to the quiet symphony of the snowy night, the quiet hope lingered that, perhaps, in the subtleties of life, I would find the change I sought—one that resonated with the authenticity of my own journey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As I wrote, the lyrics of 'Kidult' kept playing in my mind, The words of the song just felt so right. It was like the song had been waiting for this moment, adding a special layer to the emotions I was trying to capture.

Which song did it remind you of?