A Change We Did Not See Coming (Part 1)

01 February 2022.

Tuesday.

8:30pm.

Ethmore (Home).

I guess this is official then. Starting this journal though having no clue, no bloody idea on what I should pen about. Just thought that I should express my somehow repressed feelings that are on the edge of exploding on paper. Not trying to be a brilliant writer here though. Just trying to think of how I should word out my overthinking brain screaming at my soul, rendering me useless at daily progressiveness of my life. The world we live in, it’s not the same as it use to be anymore. It’s changing, more disasters, more division, more aggressive. Oh yes, there is progressive change too. Yes, that’s good. But let’s just say the media doesn’t cover that very much. As I had gathered, negativity would make much more of an impact to their storytelling. If the tone was changed in the news, their debates wouldn’t be as dramatic, the headlines wouldn’t be as eye-catching. But hey, that’s just my opinion. Having said that, I still do get my daily dose on activity tuning into the media. More so, with what had struck the entire humanity recently. People unexpectedly acting strange out of the blue. First the fever and cold sweats, then the gasping for air, and finally the manic hits. That, I’m assuming is the final phase of the horror. From what they say in the news anyway. A state of emergency had been declared one month ago, borders between districts are blocked with army tanks and police cars guarding them like rottweiler dogs getting ready to pounce onto anyone attempting to travel interstate or mainly breaking the new rules. Roads were almost empty to none, shop entrances with metal bars on them, ‘for sale’ signs nailed into the yards of homes and plastered onto building shops, neighborhood populations decreased drastically as people are afraid of being a victim, silence falls onto the streets, lesser children in the nearby park. The only sounds heard are police sirens, ambulance sirens, and the deep growl of army tanks and army trucks, leaving their marks onto the tar road. I can’t remember the last time I heard a significance of joyful chatter and laughter from human beings. Not even in this house. Gosh, what I’d do hear those calming noises again. The world has halted, progressiveness has halted. Life, has halted. Hence, this journal. Got to do something with myself since we are slapped with solitary confinement in our own homes.

Right, this is it then. I think I had written what my mind is bursting on for a month. Still not feeling a release to my suppressed emotions but hey I think it’s a good start for a so called self-improvement journey, right?