More than ever, time.
We have more time than ever.
More than we’ve ever had.
Since we were kids.
And with this time, I chose to revisit my online spaces that have become dusty and drab. I seek to create again with the purpose of exploring the things that give me joy. While I sit here writing, I hear the landscapers buzzing away. Who knew that landscaping was considered “essential.” I’m glad that it is so that they can continue to earn the money they need. I’m not glad for the need to put their safety in jeopardy to do so. I am glad for the essential workers who WILL finally get represented by this crisis as valuable members of this stubborn society. I hope that the changes we have improvised throughout this crisis stick, that they aren’t forgotten in a rush to return to this “normal” that turns out, wasn’t ideal for most.
I try to keep myself busy, but it’s hard. Sometimes I just sit and stare. There’s a lot I could do, I wish I could erase it from my mind and consolidate it all like my debt. But the mind works differently. Still, these difficulties are a privilege. It is a privilege to be a prisoner of the mind, and the mind alone. I do not spend my time worrying about my well-being, my freedom, or my safety.
I do spend a lot of time thinking about how the old normal feels so fucking strange now. I spend a lot of time thinking about how we took the old normal for granted, how we took our ease for granted. But if I’m going to be frank;
I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.
I’ve been waiting for the world to turn upside down. Every day, I floated an inch further from the shore, the shoreline growing larger as I aged farther into time.
“How is this world sustainable?”