Dear 2016

[Guest]

I'm either way too tired or I have a brilliant idea--I honestly don't know which of the two this might be, but it touches the heartstrings a lot.

In the many forums I've been a part of, there's sometimes a section where you write a letter to a specific entity--be it yourself, a forum, or a force beyond human comprehension. And I've looked everywhere for something like this to exist here; I half-expected something, but nothing showed up.

Write a letter to 2016. What you felt that year. How some of your joys were fulfilled, how you became united, how you were made stronger in the face of other Cubs fans. Because the story isn't just a story to me; it's universal and emotional. And it helps us put the past in context for our very optimistic future.

I'll do mine in a poem form--they tend to be better later at night when I'm experiencing multiple emotions and my reality is different:

 

Dear 2016,

You've always been special, a force that

made me united amidst the darkness,

the woes that have flown upon us

gone through your command;

 

as you demonstrated that you yourself

were the one to vanquish what we had

feared so long, and what others

had denied or scorned.

 

I remember you, when I left to sleep,

and I was woken up, or I was not, and I 

was told that the Cubs won, and I fell back 

into the distant dreams of distant lands;

 

I remember you, when Bryant and Rizzo were at their peak,

when I felt something beyond, amidst a war of dissidence;

as if I, too, was something special, and not a disparate element in the universe,

and I was overflown with joy.

 

Wrigley, do we all know you, or are you all of us?

Do your ivy leaves breathe fresh air into our souls?

I remember being on the TV screen, young and unscathed,

Not knowing what would pass next.

 

I remember you. And I am fond of you,

you of my formative years;

I remember.

...

Now it's your turn! You can do it in letter format, in poem format, in any format, really. And I intend this to be a way for us to share what we felt on the day the Cubs won the seventh game--and how we can connect through it.

Good night.

 

[musclemom]

Well done.

[Guest]

54 minutes ago, musclemom said:

Well done.

Thank you. I may be an amateur poet, but I try to breathe "life" into everything I write. Do you have any Dear 2016 writings that you would like to share?

Just like 1908, 2016 was never meaningful for me until recently. I remember that I went to a Cubs game during that season, and when they played "Take Me Out to the Ball Game," I refused to stand because I believed that I was opposed to superficiality in sports. And I never knew why exactly I did this, what superficiality meant, but people were confused why I didn't stand up.

I never went to the World Series, and my interest in baseball disappeared after 2016. I had gone to bed during Game 7 and was woken up when my dad said the Cubs won (or this could have been a dream; I do not know). So I wasn't there when everything happened, and I never really liked baseball after that until recent years.

I hide my interest in baseball for the most part unless I'm with my closer friends for some reason. I don't talk about it to my family, because I'm still "ashamed" of liking sports and don't want them to think that I'm straying away from my path. That's why I'm on a lot of political forums--I'm meant for politics and economics, not talking about baseball, as my parents believe. My parents basically shaped me for "greatness" ever since I was put into advanced math, but I don't think I'm smart--I just use big words to spice stuff up and sound smart, like a pseudo-intellectual. And my parents are fine with my brother liking sports; it would just be an embarrassment for them if I admitted I did as well. And don't get me wrong, I love politics, history, and government.

I'll stop talking about me again; it gets old after a while. Here is the next poem that I'll share for this thread:

"Take Me Out to the Ball Game" 

Take me out to the ball game,

take me back to the time

When we all forgot about ourselves

And became one person for once

As we pondered our existence

Through decades of sorrow and shame--

For what does 

not

change is our resolve 

to be

more

now!

...

As with most poems, it's all spontaneous.