arrogance has a price
So here I am writing on the last Monday in April, close enough to the unleashing of many of these measures we’ve taken, because people are weak and ultimately, the price we will pay for that weakness is death. I have watched the numbers since February–and the recovered rate seems to be hovering between 65-68% with very little variance, so when people are talking about the mortality rate, it looks like they aren’t referencing those who get the illness, but those people relative to the total in the population.
They lie because look great you all did with the fucking social distancing measures, meant to protect me, your parents, your grandparents and every other friend or neighbor you don’t know would not do well getting it.
https://www.worldometers.info/coronavirus/country/us/
Granted, one would expect, with all of these new therapies like injecting Lysol to shooting moonbeams out your asshole, that some of these figures would change, but clearly we are still running at a pretty high mortality for those who get it. If you take that simple math and even if you improve it to 25% that’s more than 217k+ dead up to 331k gone from this earth. Now you know the ones which will be showing in what 4-14 days will be as a result of lifting restrictions, so today we will start the experiment called, how many new cases does Georgia have in two weeks vs today and the US as a whole.
I am keeping that for the coronaprone site I will be working on. I banned myself from Facebook again because I was just mad and it was getting worse since I quit smoking weed as I was even more clear and capable than I was usually able to be and I am still pretty coherent 90% of the time. You don’t get the multitude of opinions I have not reading a shit ton and having to think about things differently than a lot of people. I do maybe have some controversial opinions on things, because I am a reasonable very coherent person and I have known some terrible fucking people in my life. I was thinking actually a few weeks ago how many people did I date who were murderers of later on went on to murder someone? The sheer number would make that a pretty probable thing ultimately.
Then again it’s just what happens. We didn’t have to worry about a virus killing us the first decade– just the smell of the 21st century, I lived and breathed NYC. The only thing we had to be irritated breathing in was our sex perfuming the air as we stumbled through subway tunnels and down and stairs we often couldn’t see straight through. Our lives were messy and drug fueled and parties and dancing and drinking. Music and art everywhere. I had especially bad taste in men there for a while, but there were more than a few times I made out with a girl because it’s just where I was at that time. We danced and sweat on each other and that was what we did, bodies often pressed tight against each other never far from touching someone else in your hazy dance circle–wow, that’s still a long ways off from happening again–but it will be and it will be a kind of ecstasy when it can happen again. I think a lot of the kids might not remember how to do that when it happens, so it will have to be those of us who still remember who can remind them of what shit used to be—sweaty and animal and free.
Oh jesus, even I am getting nostalgic, and I never let myself be that way for too long anymore. I miss my friends, Kristen and Lisa and a host of others I am sure have forgotten about me, but there were lots of people in there I had identified by initial or name, so many beautiful people I had in there, so many insane things. Man, I used to be a crazy–I really should write the book of the shit I do remember, because there’s definitely enough of it. I did have a lot of fun, rolling around NYC at 22 was really the prime time–and I discovered a lot about myself in that time, as that was also the space of time I went through most of my character development, I guess you could say.
Don is close enough to the finish line I have found myself slightly paralyzed with the fear that corona is going to come in and fuck up my life for real. Right now he happens to possess THE skillset and though I have been trying my best to tell him to be careful, he is not careful enough for me not to worry. He hangs out with this boomer crew who think they’re invincible because they avoid people and women, but you know I worry as things never seem to go right forever, and right now I just my last few years not to suck and be totally ridiculous. I have spent 70 days alone right now without touching another person but in my dreams. I have seen one other person and did my first Facetime hangout the other day, actually, bringing my face time up to 3 total people in over two months. Never again I told Don, and he agrees. Trying to enjoy my retirement a month into him disappearing left me a little lost as I kind of lost all sense of normalcy for a schedule. Only recently have I been able to get a good schedule going for myself. And I am trying to eat more, too, which is never a bad thing for me to try and do. I have showered for like the 9th day in a row or something impressive for someone never seeing anyone. But I do have a nice vitamin shower, and if nothing else. I want to be a pretty alive person. Not just pretty alive, but pretty and alive.
Today I will have to take my before body photos of my progress for my get in shape challenge–I am not in shape but I can walk far-or at least I used to be able to walk far. The pulse ox is on its way and once I get that, I will feel better–not about everything, but the things I have control over–that’s what’s terrible about this. I request such little control that not having any is kind of a slap in the face.
The reason is I have already lived the life not getting what I wanted–I have already suffered having enough with the misses and missed opportunities for the things normal people get to have. These range from financial, social and familial support to just doing basic shit people can do I always thought would be good to have the literal freedom to do. The expectations I guess I had for myself after a time were altered and given a new light I used to get where I’ve gotten. And I am the cheerleader making sure I keep it growing and not to let my fearful imagination hurt any bit of it. I have to remind myself of that over my sometimes oppressive world view. The oppression is in my recognition that the likelihood for people to dick out is generally huge and probable in many. So I have learned over the past number of years to shrink my circle of dependence to really just Don and a few friends I speak with on the regular-ish ness. Those being my hey how are you, miss you former colleague texts to a friend I talk to in the city who I dated for a minute before moving out here and really that is it. I have you guys, the silent whomever–I guess most of the conversations here are ones I illuminate via text here. I am mere days away from my change of format. Don tried to tell me people don’t like to read and want to watch videos, and though I am clearly not the ugliest 43 year old woman, I am no longer the cute 26 year old I felt myself to be for a hot minute. Here, lemme share. One from today. I took a total of 5 as that is all I have patience for:
yeah, that patience ended quick…
