ghost castle

quarantine daze

i'm empty. no energy. constant fatigue. my mind is is like burning rubber. the stress is unending. anxiety pangs in my chest. my eyes can't focus on anything but adrenaline keeps them on edge. it's so cruel. hearing someone i love crying, terrified, explaining what to do in case it turns to hospitalization and they can't speak for themselves anymore. and knowing that no matter how bad you want to you can't fucking hug them. you can't hold their hand or put your arm around them. you're on the other side of the room and you're gonna wipe down everything they touched right after they leave. like some sort of asshole. get out of here, leper. what else can you do? do you wanna get sick too? go cry about it. this is life now. death count update push notifications. openly broken political everything. more and more vulnerable people falling into insanity. bojo shook hands til he was in ICU, so burn down the cellphone towers to stop the chinese flu. go to sleep and dream about the soon-to-be-dead walking the earth, and the one-by-one failure of your organs, and the star wormwood burning in the sky. and it isn't going to go back to normal. ever. the trauma of something like this doesn't fade quickly. the world will be shifted after this. it'll look the same but it'll be different. like we slipped into some secondary reality; one that's basically the same but just a bit darker. everything that's bad now will get worse, and it'll stay that way for a long time. are you ready? i'm not.