Diary with an underlying condition 3

After two and a half days spent cooped up inside these new outdoor rules seem so distant that I need some time to adjust.

By the time I get off the train though I’m back in the routine and this absurd reality feels like it was always the norm. Avoid, steer clear, eschew, shun, repeat. And the two-meter gap, the length of your arm and a broom.

Apparently the UK is considering suing China for trillions of pounds in damages for the virus’s effects on the economy. What a marvelous and fresh idea! Make someone else pay for your shortcomings. But why stop there? Just because there is a global catastrophe underway, I don’t see why lawyers should suffer too. So sue away!

China should prosecute the UK, and indeed, the entire western world for supporting child labor in sweatshops by purchasing their wares and as such keeping the factories in business.

Eastern Europe should sue Western Europe for offering them up as fodder to the Soviet juggernaut in the Second World War.

The rest of the world versus Europe for a trial on the enlightened age of discovery. Aka colonization or “reverse Robin Hood”. Steal from the poor, give to the rich.

All the extant native tribes that were decimated by viruses bought in by the colonizers should also press charges. And the extinct ones should get pro-bono representation and should appeal too.

Women v. man for an eternity of shortsighted primitive dickhead attitude. LGBTQ communities against heterosexual humans for the same reason.

I personally would like to accuse my ancestors for settling where they did. Why in the mountains? With all the available land back then, would it have killed them to conclude on a seaside place? I’m confident if they’d show up to this trial in the present they would plead no contest.

Nature should sue humans for profiteering and grand land larceny. But who would represent them, who could do the dirty work for them? The animal kingdom’s blood-sucking beasts won’t, as they are strictly limited to actual bloodsucking. They are not versed in phoniness, shape-shifting, nor do they have a vernacular that uses a lot of words but says nothing, so they would make lousy lawyers. Plus mosquitoes and fleas have a bit of history with malaria and the plague respectively, so I suppose they would prefer to lie low. Bats don’t fare much better either.

Maybe the virus is nature’s lawyer? The waters are clean, the air is breathable, animals are thriving, only the colorful sunsets are suffering. Not sure if the actions of this lawyer are legal, but one could argue that they do seem right.

While we’re at it, who can we sue for inadequate governments?  Crippled by incompetence and hidden agendas? We can’t really sue them, can’t we. And not because the justice system is rigged. Well, it is, but even so. We live in a democracy, the people rule! Right? We wanted them there. Well, some people did. Maybe as much as 40 percent voted for this government. And not all of them were deceived by lies and propaganda and dirty tricks. And many were already training for this lockdown and stayed home, didn’t bother to vote, so how can we sue them? We can’t, doggone it. 

When we closed our lives did we let fear in? Or did we seal our lives because fear was already in? Fear of death. Fear of something unusual, fear of the unknown. Fear of something we can’t control. Or at least we don’t realize how to feign that we are controlling it.  Only a couple of weeks in, the economy is in tatters, unemployment is soaring and there is no end in sight. Ironically, while death is being pushed out the door it’s oozing back in through the window. The minor cases being dropped now might be too serious by the time this is over. But we only consider the imminent danger. Imminent like happening right now and imminent like happening to us. And the procedures being postponed don’t affect us as a mass of people. And the impending doom of financial hardships is in an obscure future. Where all bad things should be. Besides, surely we’ll be safe? Everybody else will be overwhelmed but me. Me and my family. OK, maybe my mate Jeff will be safe too. And if we won’t,  if we lose our jobs, our flats at least we’ll have our health, right?

Is clinging to life at all costs the strongest human trait? Or is it just plain old fear? Fear of this, fear of that. Fear of being upstaged, fear of being average, fear of being found out. Fear of flight, fear of failure. Fear of calling things for what they are. Often we would use another term instead of fear. Weary, anxiety, worry. Not afraid, just cautious. Or a fancy term, a foreign one. Xenophobia. Arachnophobia. Ok, these are the easy ones. And still, not everybody knows what they mean. But what about allodoxaphobia. Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia. See what I mean? Only a handful of individuals are aware of the meaning of these. But those who don’t understand their meaning still appreciate that it’s a condition. So not fear. We’re getting braver by the minute, even if it’s just grammar tricks.

And phobia sounds a lot like -philia. It makes you think of fondness instead of irrational fear. Usually, that’s a good thing, though there are drawbacks too. Paedophobia. Sounds nasty, though people having this condition are clearly not individuals with the condition you thought of when you heard this word.

But let’s not be all negative. Fear is a great motivator. Right? Used by the people, for the people, erm, I mean on the people, since the dawn of time. And as things stand, peniaphobia is next. 

How did I do? Was this spot on? Atelophobia asking.

Nowadays I’m only reading headlines. That’s enough to be mindful of the general situation. Plus everybody at work talks about this all the time, so I pick up a lot of unwanted details.

This morning the “headline” picture is warped. Seems this pandemic is over, as every title is about the PM being in intensive care. I just realized that I’m twisting notions again. When I say headlines you should think of article titles on online news sites. Anyway, I was sure of the seriousness of his condition since he was supposedly only having an innocent sleepover in the hospital Sunday evening.

And I accept there has to be an article dealing with this. But one is all we require, surely there are other equally important stories to report on, events that we should know about. At the moment there is the main feature about this, then a separate one about what actually is an intensive care unit, another on former PMs who had to be hospitalized while in office.  Behind the scenes they are probably working on an obituary and a quick recovery article at the same time, seeking to smuggle the good parts from one to the other. Witty sentences are desired in commiserations and congratulations alike. Then there is a mandatory speculative article on all the things that could be. Another report with a bouquet of messages from well-wishers all over the world. Other world leaders, local allies and rivals alike are all wishing him well. Of course, they are, it will take a lot more than a deadly virus to trim hypocrisy.

Some folks are in shock at the news of him getting seriously ill. I don’t understand why seems the nature of a virus is not clear to some people. They just can’t let go of their biased human mentality.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m sorry for him and his family. I know he just got engaged and they’re expecting a baby. I can definitely relate to that as we are expecting too. And this is my point altogether. We are similar, he is just another slob like the rest of us. Life goes own. More importantly, the pandemic does too, so let’s get back to the task at hand.

I hear it often nowadays how people lament for not being able to say goodbye to loved ones dying in isolation in hospitals. This is somewhat puzzling for me, would you be able to say goodbye under normal circumstances?

Was this done BC? (Before Coronavirus) Is this something people would actually like to do? Or is it just a figure of speech that was so overused it’s in the vernacular, just a mandatory turn of phrase,  without meaning, like “How are you? I’m fine, thanks, and you?”

How do you even say farewell to someone who’s about to die? A few weeks ago we were flying home with my wife and knew that we’ll be physically apart for a while and we were dreading the moment we’ll have to say goodbye. And we were only going to be apart for a while, with daily contact over the internet but still, it would have been painful. Authorities solved our puzzle and ripped us apart rudely so we didn’t get to experience the dreaded goodbye.

But how do you say goodbye to a dying person? Can you really step back and let them go? Say some words and let them go knowing you’ll never speak to them? We see this in movies frequently, in all sorts of stirring glorious forms, carefully calculated for maximum cheesy effect. Watery eyes, strained breath, last words that matter, a final gasp and a noble death. In a meticulously choreographed position. Except Tom Sawyer, who happened to fake die next to a nettle so had to spring up too gaily for a corpse. We’ve seen it so many times it feels like it’s part of life. I’m not sure it is. I’m talking like Yoda again. Let me rephrase that. I’m sure it’s not. Saying this, if there is karma I’ll probably experience it down the years. I don’t know how I would react if I knew I was talking with someone for the last time. And I don’t want to think about it either. If it was me passing it would terribly annoy me if people were to try and say tearful goodbyes. It’s a once in a lifetime occurrence, so they should let me watch my life pass before my eyes and die.

I would plead that as a rule of thumb, most people just die, and selfishly don’t bother to give notice. My father died in a car crash, but he didn’t mention that when he left home. Maybe people with a terminal illness have an enhanced sensibility of potentially any moment being the last but even then they would always hope for one more week. Day, hour, minute. Hope, hope, hope. 

American Pie just got on the radio. The Don McLean song, not the movie. Came to appreciate it lately. It’s a brilliant song.

That made me think, who will write the end of an era anthem for this period? A masterpiece that would stand the test of time just like this song did. Do you remember what was revealed the day the myth of human control over nature die? Again.

“And them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye

Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die”

Old people dying? He must have known about this. Conspiracy! How else can you explain the lyrics? No way, no how. No wonder the song resisted interpretation for so long, it was about this pandemic all along. Don McNostradamus, American Lie. The song, not the Trump administration.

You think I’m crazy, huh? For what it’s worth, I think it’s a prophecy. Chew on this:

“There’s something happening here, but what it is ain’t exactly clear. There’s a man with a gun over there telling me I got to beware. I think it’s time we stop. Children, what’s that sound? Everybody look – what’s going down? Paranoia strikes deep, into your life it will creep. It starts when you’re always afraid, step out of line, the man come and take you away.”

Yeap, that’s a wrap. Artists in the sixties-seventies knew in advance. What’s that? You say history repeats itself? Good songwriting? Misinterpreted lyrics? Yeah, right, like I’m going to fall for that.

Even in the middle of night human stupidity is visible from afar. Illuminated by the light of burning 5G towers. Like a lighthouse. But what does this light guide and attract?

Going through the motions of my much-changed commute to work, seeing a few people out and about conforming to the same set of new rules I can’t help but speculate: will there be a spirit of camaraderie when this is all over? An awful past that should keep us together. We went through it together. Then I realize, the whole world is afflicted. And you can’t have an entire globe coming together as one. Only in songs and movies. No, as soon as we shake this naughty virus it will be back to discord and hatred as usual. Even now there’s still loathing and strife just doesn’t make it in the news.

People who are hard to fool are fully aware of what’s going on behind the scenes. They know that this virus is a biological weapon released by an extremely sinister character or organization who wants chaos to rule the world.

Luckily, I’m easily deceived, so I don’t know any of the above. Don’t see behind the scenes either. But I do realize, because it’s out in the open, that sinister characters and organizations are hijacking the virus to further their agendas. Just yesterday southern EU members were blackmailing their northern counterparts for something or another, holding up the virus like a Smith & Wesson. Stick ‘em up! Emergency laws were passed all over the world, giving authorities extra privileges to deal with the virus. How many of these concessions will be maintained after the pandemic is over I wonder?

I’m not a financially savvy person. Not in my private life, nor generally speaking. Don’t even understand the terminology properly. I’m a writer for God’s sake! 🙂 but still, it seems G7 economies predict a contraction for the April June period that is bordering the impossible. Scores and scores of hydrogen bombs couldn’t have done this much disruption. Some analysts hope for a comparable growth for the economy once the pandemic is over but that just might be misplaced hope. And the working masses of the entire globe will be indebted for life and I’m afraid that there will be no support from the authorities to get out of that debt. Panem et circensesis is good, virtual shackles are better, hopeless slob is the best. Even BC, the world witnessed a worrying rise of populist swashbucklers and this economic crisis is only going to fuel that, so more and more closeted nazis are going to come forward.

Maybe there was a super-intelligent puppet master who organized and orchestrated the last few months, but most of the creeps who weaponized the virus since then didn’t plan for this in advance. They are just jumping on the bandwagon, trying to reap some benefits from this awful situation. Like shooting fish in a barrel, though the fish are at least usually healthy. 

Do you scat? You know, putting in long hours at home, self-isolating, nobody around, no family, no friends, no sanity just you and your world of make-believes. So you scat. Meaningless, tuneless vowels and notes in a torrent of uncontrollable frenzy. Just raga-dim-boom-pam-pam. Something tribal, visceral, ripping up your insides, spewing them out like a geyser. Sincerely now, do you scat? No? Yeah, me neither.

The official government announcement comes on every hour on the radio. It’s the same voice as the statement that is meant to intimidate you at the cinema. You know, switch off your phone, watch the movie, don’t record, we see you, that sort of talk. It sounds like  Mark Strong. But now it says stay home, save lives, protect the NHS. Still, it drives me to think of movies.

Superhero movies to be specific. What would they do now? If they were real I mean? Would they kick the virus’ ass? Some of them already wear masks, that’s a good start. Or would they follow the official advice, stay home and save lives?

But then I take it further. What if superheroes were real in a normal world? Anytime BC. Sure, they would rescue some people in distress, but everybody else would complain.  Why did you save them? Why not me? Is it because of my color? Is it because of my creed? Because I’m poor? A real live superhero would spend most of his time fighting off complainers and filling reports to HR. And every respectable criminal would want to kick the superhero’s ass. They would be the benchmark.

In movies, when they act like they actually exist in the real-life, most of the accusations are concerning the ruin and confusion they cause. I don’t think that would be an issue. The cleaner’s opinion doesn’t matter.

I am clapping for everybody who is still doing their duty the best they can. No complaints, no excuses.

I’m jotting this down on the bog. Armageddon, the end of the world. The inevitable happened. I ran out of toilet paper. I guess it will have to be kitchen towel from now on. The horror, the horror. Toilet paper shortage, reduced definition on Netflix, lack of pasta. Can life get any harder in the first world during a pandemic?

My wife, who is 2000 miles away and eight months pregnant wrote some poetry. Sort of an anagram, made out of the letters in COVID and coronavirus.

I, u, us – vivid sin?

Roar and soar around

Cordons vicar, cousin, son

Acid rain drains air

Sour arson round our sun

And avid coo-sand in us

I’m not here. I’m not in the now. Intellectually I am conscious of the severity of the situation, I see it’s hard and I expect to be a lot worse for years to come. I realize this, but I don’t feel it. Seems I’m studying all this from the outside, like watching a show from the stands. I am following the plot, can draw my own conclusions, can speculate on the outcome as you can see in this diary. But I’m not in it. Not unlike when you go to the beach, where you can sense the breeze on your face, sand between your toes, salt filling your senses and the water just embraces you. In the evening you feel like the day passed in a flash yet it seems that the morning was a week ago. Do you know the feeling? That’s what I don’t have now. Not the sand and salt part, the being in it part.

I’m not panicking like I should, not drawing breaths like Matt Bellamy. I’m just a passenger being caught up temporarily. Board the train, the carriage is full, squeeze in, try to hold your breath as you are stuck between a BO advocate and a mouthbreeder champion. Someone’s foot is on your toe, elbow in the back and you’re running out of breath but you know that it’ll be all over in a minute as your station is coming up. That’s how I feel now. Feels like my station is due imminently, all I have to do is last for another minute. 10 minutes tops. Maybe an hour. Worst case scenario: a day.

Is carpe diem a fad or a necessity these days? Yeah, OK, some would argue that it’s always a necessity. The right thing to do. I would like to talk to these people. But not today. Tomorrow 🙂

I hope for the pandemic to end, but can’t even imagine that. I can’t visualize life going back to how it was. Like when you’re at the end of a two week holiday and you can’t portray yourself back in your daily routine. You are aware you’ve done it for years and years but seems inconceivable at that moment.

It’s a truly peculiar feeling. I’m questioning my whole life now, maybe I always felt like this. Maybe I was never part of anything. Just a passenger. The next station was always mine. Seemingly on the train but also looking in through the window. Serenity now. Insanity too.

People complaining of restrictions, deploring their limited possibilities of contracting the virus. Don’t like living in a lockdown. Most people are not used to strict conditions. Never experience a stern life, we’re protected by the harshness of reality. Because if we look at it objectively this is just going back to a strict life.

I’m thinking of the word obviously. Our lives are restricted. Our liberties are restricted. Our options are restricted. Re-stricted. Back to being strict again. But most never experienced that to start with.

And this made me think. Cognize means to know something and if you knew something before then you can re-cognize it. And does tort mean the same as ply? As retort is similar to reply. Is duction a term for growth? Is venge the act of doing evil prior to being hurt by someone? First, they venge you then you get your re-venge. And why doesn’t veal disclose anything? Only when you go back will it reveal something.

With the economy in taters I suspect nobody wants to be dundant.

Was peat really done just once? And if you go back on an ally is that real?

Is spect disparaging? Because only when you go back on it can you show respect. Do resolutions only work vis-à-vis a solution?

It seems you die when you surrect. And you could be served only if you’re lucky and there is an available table, one that is not taken or reserved. And Los Angeles Airport is apparently nerve-wracking.

Or maybe I just lost the plot. Solve is good, but my resolve is broken. 

Now that I am sort of a diarist I studied diaries a bit and learned that there is a diet diary too. My initial thought was that you should consider yourself lucky that I’m publishing these views instead of my food diary. That would be way duller than this. But, as I pondered my late culinary exploits I realized how much I had to adjust it in the last month or so. I had to substitute essentially everything. I guess the phrase I could apply here is substitute like for like but that depends on what you like. I had to tweak my preferred recipes too, but I’ll take those secrets with me to my grave.

There was too much ranting in my diary last week, for this week I made a solemn vow to be more ironic. The circumstances have done most of the work for me. I remembered a quote my wife used about a decade ago, I thought that would be appropriate to use here. Asked her yesterday what was the quote and from who, she said it wasn’t a quote from anyone, that’s just something she said. So here’s a quote from my wife: Irony and laughter make us survive.

If you clocked a few album covers among the doodles then kudos for you.

The diarrhea of words continues here.

Since I can’t compel you to stay as there are laws against it why don’t you do it on your own? Stick around and read more of my short stories. All of them are amazing. Well, most of them are. OK, honestly, some of them are. Why don’t you decide for yourself? Take a look around –> Here’s a map!

Or, if you’re really adventurous, get off the beaten track and read a random story!