What a year, huh? What a year. For me, 2020 started at Falls Festival in Byron Bay, seeing in the New Year with the band Peking Duk with about 25,000 other festival-goers. A new year and a new decade. None of us knew how radically different it would be though. At the time I was enjoying the festive atmosphere, although I was conscious of my lack of money. I’d left my old office job earlier the previous year, and while I did not and still have no regrets about leaving that place the lack of a steady income and uncertainty over the future was a concern. But for the moment I was enjoying what I felt would be my last holiday for a while before finding a new job.

While enjoying the chill vibes of Byron Bay, I was acutely aware that things were not OK in the world, even back then. Much of the country was experiencing horrendous bushfires that were destroying communities and wildlife, not helped by a callous and irresponsible federal government that seemed to treat the entire issue as if the destruction were just an inconvenience for them and not the environmental disaster it truly was. At the time it felt like that would be the defining issue of the year. I was thankful at the time that at least this little part of the country had been spared.

After my time in Byron Bay, I took a coach up to the Gold Coast and caught up with my friend Rachel who I hadn’t seen for over a year, exploring up and down the coast between the Queensland and New South Wales borders. Even managed to score four nights in a luxury hotel for only $30 through a combination of Black Friday sales and accrued loyalty points the previous year. I had very little money, but at least I had upgraded lodgings from the hostels I was staying in before. From there I spent a few nights in Brisbane, heading up to Mount Coot-tha with Rachel and generally checking out the major attractions in the city. By the time I was flying back home I was hearing reports of this new coronavirus that had effectively shut down the Chinese city of Wuhan, and the risk that it may be spreading across the world.

By February the stories about this coronavirus were becoming more alarming, particularly as the death toll started to rapidly increase. The fact that the virus was so easy to spread, would remain dormant in your body for a while with no symptoms showing, and would be quickly and easily infecting everyone you came into contact with during this incubation period was very frightening. Some people tried to play it down by saying most people would have only minor symptoms, if any, and only the elderly and those with underlying chronic illnesses would potentially die. A naive view, but I’m sure it provided some false comfort to those without any underlying health conditions. Still, many of us carried on with our lives, going to work or on holidays, visiting social gatherings and concerts, hoping that things would soon blow over.

March was when everything changed. Major international events such as Coachella, Wimbledon and even the Tokyo Olympics were cancelled. Entire regions in countries like Italy went into lockdown, with no travel in or out unless for essential reasons. Soon entire countries themselves went into lockdown to prevent the spread of this new disease, now called COVID-19. Even TV shows that used to have live audiences were now either broadcasting from home or with a limited (or no) audience. In my home state of Western Australia, travel was not only restricted in regards to the rest of the country but even to certain regions within the state itself. Unfortunately, this meant that a few temp jobs I had lined up in regional areas ended up being cancelled, so there went any of those job opportunities. In the shopping centres panic buying led to shortages of toilet rolls, paper towels, rice, pasta, flour and many other items, to the point that rationing was brought in. It felt like the end of the world, particularly when you saw mobile footage of people fighting and attacking each other over a single pack of toilet rolls.

For myself, I had mixed feelings about the strange and unfamiliar world I was now living in. In a way it was scary: the shadow of death seemed to be lingering in the air, and people were advised not to go anywhere unless it was for goods or services or anything essential. I’d managed to earn a small amount writing articles online, but not quite enough to live off yet. Still, I was grateful that I was safe at home, and not sitting in an office surrounded by the “brave soldiers” who always come into work when sick, potentially infecting the entire workplace. The thought of sitting there and fearing that each cough or sniffle I heard could potentially put me in danger made me even more grateful for being out of that place. Home felt safe and cosy for the most part, although the threat from outside was still very much present.

Of course, isolation does take its toll, and I needed to find ways to keep myself occupied. Games were a great distraction, and I played through the entirety of the Witcher 3, an incredibly massive and immersive game experience that kept me occupied for a few months. TV and music also provided a way to escape the problems of the world. I had hoped that social distancing and everyone having to stay at home would lead to greater connections and communication through social media, but that didn’t seem to eventuate at the time, at least for me. If anything I felt even less connected with others online than before, and I started to wonder if I should just delete all my social media accounts (Instagram, Facebook, etc) and chalk the whole concept of social media as a failed experiment that promised a lot but failed to deliver in the end. Sure, without social media I’d still be lonely, but at least it would be an honest loneliness without the demoralising act of shouting into the void and hoping in vain that anybody cared.

In May I took notice of an electronic dance duo called Sofi Tukker after hearing their song “Purple Hat” (I’d heard the song before but this time it clicked with me). Following them on social media, I became aware of their daily live sets. Many artists had been inconvenienced by the pandemic and were now unable to go on tours, and so were turning to online streaming to continue performing for a virtual audience. Sofi Tukker in particular had decided to keep things going with a half-hour daily set on Instagram, Facebook and Twitch. Being familiar with Twitch and finding that the superior viewing platform, I started watching through that. What struck me immediately was the warmth and friendliness of the community that had gathered in the chat room there. Having had bad experiences with many fandoms in the past (hello, NIN fans), it was refreshing to see one that was positive and accepting of new members. Being inspired to find a way for this community to gather and chat outside the half-hour a day Twitch stream, I created a Discord and spread the link around. I guess it seemed like a good idea at the time, especially as no official Discord server existed back then. It wasn’t long, however, that the Discord became recognised as the official Discord for Sofi Tukker and the Freak Fam (as the community had become known). It felt good to have contributed something and I felt that maybe, just maybe, I’d found a place I belonged.

Other members of the Freak Fam created a 24/7 Zoom room, primarily for dancing together during the DJ sets but also for chatting at other times. I never worked up the courage to put myself on camera: I still dislike putting images of myself up on social media, so actually appearing on video still freaks me out. Instead, I put my long-time feline companion Connor on screen. During the sets he would often sleep on my bed, oblivious to the party going on, yet capturing the hearts of people around the world enough that they decided to make him their mascot. Sofi Tukker even got to meet him in the Zoom room at one point, and he was completely oblivious to who the famous duo was on the other end, but they seemed to love him all the same. It is ironic though, he’s quiet and placid on camera, yet noisy and active every other time. Still, I was happy that my feline friend was getting some international fame.

The rest of the year had its ups and downs. Perhaps the most exciting (though not in a positive way) thing was in July when a large pitbull ran into my house during the WA Day fireworks. It was injured and bleeding, and I was in a bit of a panic. Unfortunately, the council rangers and RSPCA officers were all off duty since it was a public holiday, so I ended up contacting the police who were able to coax the dog out and take it to the emergency vet (got a text later to say it was expected to make a full recovery). I remember one of the cops saying he’d rather be dealing with a knife-wielding maniac, which only goes to show how tense and uncertain the situation was. Other than that, I managed to earn a small income from freelance writing. it was good to be able to earn a little with my skills (something I wasn’t able to do in my old job). However, the downside was that I didn’t have much time to write for myself. I pretty much only updated my Instagram once a month, and I think I’ve only written a handful of articles for this blog. Of those I wrote, however, most I didn’t end up publishing. I wrote one article discussing privilege, inspired by the Black Lives Matter protests and some of the reactions to it I saw on social media. I wanted to discuss how privilege can manifest in different ways and that you can be privileged in one aspect but disadvantaged in another way, and the issues that come with that. In the end I decided to leave the article as a draft as I wasn’t convinced that I was explaining my case adequately and people might misinterpret it. I also wrote an article about R U OK? Day in Australia and why I feel it isn’t working despite the best of intentions, but the article felt a little too personal and in the end I left it too long for it to be timely anyway. I might revisit those articles at some point though as there are some important things to be said; I just need to find the best way to say them.

In terms of the COVID-19 pandemic, my home state of Western Australia has so far been one of the lucky ones with no community transmission since the middle of the year. This appears to be mostly due to the hard border with the rest of the country that restricted travel and the spread of the disease. While regional borders within the state were relaxed, the hard state border remained well into the year as other states in the east of Australia were dealing with new outbreaks over there. While controversial to some (although very popular with citizens within this state), the border meant that many public venues like clubs, restaurants and shops could reopen so long as certain health regulations were observed. While the rest of the world is still dealing with lockdowns and outbreaks, WA has mostly returned to normal, although with a certain dread that it could all be undone if a single infected case gets into the community. I guess that fear is one of the reasons I’ve been so reluctant to rejoin society: to go out to the concerts and public venues I used to enjoy. Well, that and the fact I have less money to freely spend like I used to.

Unfortunately, those feelings of isolation have also returned. When I first discovered the Freak Fam I felt accepted: now, I don’t feel quite as connected as I used to. Even the Discord appears less popular these days, with certain Freak Fam members seemingly distancing themselves from it. I notice that there are Discord servers now that have been created by other DJs that the Freak Fam follow, all of which are run by the DJs themselves and where they actively communicate with their fanbase and are much more lively and active. Being just a fan-run server (even with an official endorsement) I guess I can see why those servers would be more popular, although I find it disheartening that the community seems to have turned their back on it. I have to be honest and say that although I made the Discord with the best of intentions for the community, I probably wouldn’t have done it if I had known how things would turn out. Perhaps I still haven’t found the community that is right for me yet.

And so as 2020 comes to a close, I find myself in the same place as before: alone, uncertain about the future, and wondering whether I’d be better off deleting my social media accounts for constantly letting me down. I guess I’m just tired of just flying too close to the sun and ending up plummeting back to earth. I don’t have any plans for next year: even if a pandemic weren’t still rampaging across the globe preventing travel I still don’t have enough savings built up yet. I still have VIP tickets for Splendour in the Grass held over from this year’s canceled event, but who knows if next year’s date will take place either. Perhaps next year I will finally get lucky. Maybe I’ll find success, or find the right people who actually want to hang out with me for more than five minutes. All I can do is keep hoping, because what other choice do I have?