These are weird times. Over the course of a week, things have snowballed so quickly that I haven’t completely understood it.
And this is just the first wave.
It was 9 days ago that I ventured out of my apartment at 2am to go to a Denny’s a few blocks away. I had a grand slam because it was my birthday.
Today, no restaurants are open. Shops have all shuttered their doors. Groceries are precious commodity, and we have all been asked to distance from others as work halted.
Yet, it’s gorgeous outside. The days when we shouldn’t have the freedom and mobility are filled with sunshine and freshly blossomed trees. It’s the kind of sunshine that have eluded us for months until this week, the week right after COVID 19 was declared a pandemic.
Of course, the looming pandemic couldn’t stop people from wandering outside and gathering, the two things they should be avoiding.
I’m guilty of half of that — I go outside, but I try to steer clear of people. I walk with my headphones on and wonder how many more days of freedom I’ll have before we’re all forcibly locked away to prevent the illness from spreading.
This has always been a theme that I wanted to tell stories of — isolation, loneliness, a loss of purpose.
We’re standing at the precipice of a very dangerous cliff, yet everything feels strangely normal. Everything about this defies logic, and it seems like most people have not yet come to understand the idea of just how destructive it can and probably will be. Our economy is sitting on cracked, brittle legs. Our health is in jeopardy. Every day luxuries are about to vanish. And we are sitting at the beach, oblivious to the assault that is about to rain down on us.
This will be the event that topples things. It’s the death card in a tarot deck. So much of the structure we live with and never question will collapse and be swept away. Are we ready?