The Year That Was 2016

The year I earned my first paycheck,
The year I discovered bullet journaling,
The year I got a kindle.
The year I got to go on a semi-solo trip, a first.
The year I met Raves and the Puffs,
(so grateful for having them in my life)
The year I had some of the best breakfasts,
The year I learned how to cook biryani amongst other things,
The year my obsession with chai began,

The year I started appreciating poetry.
And youtube.
And dark chocolate.
And comfy pillows.
And scented candles.(although I don't own any yet, soon hopefully)
And early mornings.
The year I experienced profound bliss and utter disappointment.
The year I bawled my eyes out. Literally. And so many times.
The year I understood what living in solitude actually means.
The year I had my last day of college.

It was bitter-sweet, 2016 feels like the part in a story where everything is building up to the main climax, be it in terms of college or personal life, and 2017 is where all the action is going to happen. I'm nervous, anxious, terrified, the reality that college life is *almost* over hasn't sunk in yet, and adapting to change isn't one of my best suits. This is vv scary, you guys!

So, 2017 please be decent to me. Please be more sweet to bitter. Please have more pink and teal colored days to gray, I've had enough of gray days&nights for a year. I'd like some 5 am light now.

And please, please, please, give the things that started in 2016 a chance to breathe, a chance to live and a chance to thrive.
Don't crush them, not just yet.

To 2017, the year of climax, cheers.

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P.S: For those of you interested in my year in books, you can check them out here.

Is this what useless feels like?

Have you been following the Syrian war? Are you aware of the current situation in Aleppo?

I feel helpless and burdened. I feel useless and ashamed.
I keep reminding myself that it isn't a book, not a heart-breaking historical fiction novel, but real current happenings.
How does one live with that? How do you go about brushing and eating, knowing that babies were burned, that kids were being treated without anesthesia, that women slit their own wrists for fear of being raped, that even though people are being evacuated, they have nowhere to stay, that even though the war is "over", we failed as human beings. How?

How do we continue to live knowing that a genocide took place while we were alive and we did nothing to stop it. Mere breathing feels wrong.