Calmed by January.

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The year starts off as it ages, which is very illuminating and full of empty spaces. I recall that I used to dread the vacancy January inspired; empty pages of a new book waiting to be filled. However, I didn’t let that disgruntle me this time, even with the mornings that I sensed were rather melancholic, rejecting the magic of sunrises. I’d wake expecting a sky full of charm and colours— but slowly retreat in disappointment, being greeted by fogs, nipped sunrises and prevailing morning mists.

But I don’t mind, I’m still a patient lover for mornings, even if January decides to inflict the atmosphere with southern winds that carry the dust, intoxicating the horizons. I know that soon, really soon, the grasses shall burst with yellow buds of dandelions, and I shall soar with hopes of spring and warmth to come. February is coming, a-coming.


I haven’t been productive this month, or not as I wanted to be. But I’ve spent many nights in the living room, spending awkward silence with my dad, with the TV in the background, and we’d once in a while stutter something funny or criticising. Those are moments to cherish and to remember, forevermore, even if they do seem quite distant and irrelevant. January allowed me to lay stiff on the sofa, clinging to my comforter, allowing the warmth underneath it to diffuse to my cheeks, flustering them with redness. The stiffness is not something I’m comfortable with, but I dare to enjoy it, before the freedom of spring arrives.


This month was all about love, peace-of-heart and music. It was all about finally knowing for real that happiness is not something to shy away from, not something I should hide, but to celebrate and be thankful for.

Thank you January, for the abundance of joyous victories you gave me. I’ll continue as I am, on the timeline of this year, hoping that it is a path foreordained, beholding what is best, and only this.

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