My kingdom for a moment of tranquility. That's all I ask for, tranquility. A moment of silence. It's not that I can't anymore, it's just that I need some peace, like a breath of air after holding my breath underwater for a long time.
– 1.8 million people are confirmed infected worldwide,” says the woman in the news in an almost mournful tone. What a number! If that is only the population of Iztapalapa.
I don’t want to think about it and here I am, writing about it. It’s like a kind of casual masochism, like touching a bruise or writing to your ex to wish her happy pandemic.
Too many emotions. Remoteness, stress, insomnia, endless meetings, over-information, social networks, wine, cajeta and dissociation. Hello darkness, my old friend! Why are you here if it’s daytime?
Being optimistic, it’s a more manic than depressive quarantine?
Although at first my social anxiety was the most grateful with Susana Distancia, in view of the fifth week of confinement – I think it’s the fifth, I’m not sure of anything, I’ve already lost track of time (and space) -, I start to have thoughts of proximity that worry me. I have fantasized about hugging Botanas as soon as I return to Polanco.
It’s funny all the things you discover about yourself when you’re locked up at home, those things you haven’t done in your life and have always wanted to; like visiting a Fantasías Miguel store, for example. I’ve already decided it will be one of the first things I’ll cross off my post-apocalyptic bucket list when everything goes back to normal, if there is such a thing as “normal”.
I miss my freedom. I know I didn’t go out before, it was just by choice. When it’s by force, everything changes. It doesn’t taste the same anymore. Like when you read because it’s homework or write because you have to.
It’s not easy to keep your sanity, but it’s harder to keep your figure. To my list of predicaments you have to add carbohydrates. Goodbye to the results of a year of gym. Cardboard Lulu is my new nickname. I’m one refrigerator restraining order away. I have no self-control.
At least my love life is going well and the action in bed hasn’t stopped. I have a different companion every night and sometimes I put them all together: Netflix, Prime, Claro Video, YouTube, Izzi. So much to watch and there’s never anything. Spotify is without a doubt my most stable relationship today. I don’t know what I would be without playlists for every mood of the day: “Hyperventilating in the dining room”, “Midnight Desolation from the living room”, “Toxic Perreo in the shower”.
The entertainment is ephemeral and although there are plenty of options, nothing seems to be good enough or simply doesn’t last as long as you’d hoped. Any resemblance to my love life is mere coincidence.
Until that, I haven’t resented the lack of intimacy that much. I hadn’t had sex for a while anyway and if I did have sex I didn’t even kiss on the mouth anymore, but that’s another story. To be honest, there was a week when I couldn’t stand it, I looked like a teenager and not only because of the acne caused by the stress. I’ll just say that the cold showers weren’t enough. I thought about taking advantage of a certain dating app and realized the big mistake early on. The notifications wouldn’t stop. A good run for my ego, to tell you the truth. It was obvious I wasn’t the only person looking for attention, much less a disposable caress. However, the insecurity and effort involved in looking like a more or less interesting human being takes away all desire, and then fucking with face masks, fetish as it may seem, no thanks. I’d rather sleep.
And I’m serious, I’d like to sleep more, but the Dream Fairy is in overdemand and I’m on the waiting list. I got the wine I bought online faster than the hours of continuous sleep. Slow as I am, now I look like a character from Zootopia.
Sometimes I think about what is going to happen when this is “over”, but the reality is that it is far from over. Sure, the health emergency will pass, the economy will go through its cycle and we will shake hands again, even though I am in favor of leaving the healthy distance as a fixed public policy. Some will come out of it better than others, that’s how crises are. The important thing to remember is that today is Easter and you can always find the eggs you need to connect with your madness and do something about it.
I’m sorry to owe you a reflection on how lucky we are for our privilege. I’m a bit uncreative today. This was going to be a zombie story.
