Quite uneventfully, the year has come to an end. I’m spending the last day of the year in my PJs, in bed, watching documentaries on Alan Bennett and the Brontë sisters, whilst putting off reading for the coming semester. Nothing particularly exciting there. If anything, this day pales in comparison to the year that preceded it.
2016 has given us great cause for heartache, its political turmoil and celebrity deaths marking, perhaps, the end of an era in our young lives. Still it seems rather bittersweet, though quite apt, that the year I exit my teenage-hood shall coincide with such disillusionment – not to mention the passing of my childhood icons. What follows? Who knows? We shall see.
Whilst the year has been rampant with tragedy that I mourn, it hasn’t exactly maltreated me either. When I wasn’t waking up to pop-up notifications updating me on world events – mostly upsetting ones – I travelled to London and watched Florence and the Machine for the first time ever. I attended classes at Cambridge. Met Grimes, Chvrches, Matt Smith, and Rupert Graves (the latter being a felicitous encounter). Breakfasted with Emma Thompson.
My best friend returned, this summer, from Glasgow and we had the most whimsical time wandering through museums in the day, spending droll nights in between, at her place, marathoning tv shows. Though she had to leave three months ago to continue her degree, in my second year at university, I encountered and befriended the most lovely suite mates who’d take her immediate place and help me, where she cannot, through the year.
Over the past months, I wrote for TYCI. Got my poetry to Flo. Got published in the student’s journal. Produced work, essays and paintings that I can retrospectively be proud of.
PerhapsI could have done more with my time – been more efficient, I suppose, and less sloppy at times – but between keeping myself sane and achieving all that I had, I must say I’ve done pretty well for the year. Much lies ahead for me in 2017, and I can only, hence, hope that the coming year will be just as brilliant as I’d planned for it to be.
And so, now, Auld Lang Syne, my friend.