Finally, we're reaching the last day of 2020. I usually found myself being in an absolute state of melancholy during the end of a year, but this time, boy, how I want to fast-forward into tomorrow! And it is such a bizarre feeling to have because, somehow, I also feel a great sense of gratitude when I think about this year: I cannot believe we can survive in ways that we do now.

By the beginning of the pandemic, I can only hope to keep my mental health as manageable as possible. Right now, I am proud to say that, not only I've been writing this article, word-by-word to you, with a very clear and conscious mind; but also with an immensely peaceful and hopeful heart. I would never imagine that a year so dark and bitter would leave me feeling optimistic at the end, not even the slightest! But I guess, if the time is right, one can truly embrace a sign for a new beginning - a sign like today, where the last number of our year is about to change. The day we're eventually about to greet 2021 for the first time. It's the perfect time for a reflective post and, to make it more obvious, a list of explanation regarding why I didn't write anything since May.

Shall we start?

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