The other night I watched a documentary about Flat Earthers and this morning I found myself idly wondering how the conspiracy theorists are faring right now β they must be out of their damn minds, I thought β and before long I was starting to conspiracy-theorize myself. A grand plan by the deep state to reset capitalism and the social contract that takes advantage of our faith in science and the media, the timing of flu and cold season, and our having been primed to expect this by arts and entertainment?
Something something bioweapon something? Yeah, they are out of their damn minds. Since this is certainly right about when the hero is meant to show up? I find myself waiting for that. I had already forgotten how to put on makeup. Someone I know is going to die. She wails, to the tune of a fatal virus sweeping humanity outside her window. I often think when reading history about how hindsight serves to heighten or assuage the tension of plot.
I bite my nails at someone drinking a cup of tea in an English garden in and exhale as the calendar flips closer to May Time is passing intolerably slowly.
So I wait. Follow my blog with Bloglovin. To the second-semester senior who has been unceremoniously dispatched home by the coronavirus, just when you were about to depart on your victory lap:. I had made peace with my B average. I hope all of you who have been unexpectedly put adrift can find that sense of freedom within yourselves even without the Senior Week booze cruise and nearly garroting yourself trying to put on your graduation hood. Here are a few things that you might keep in mind, especially as the unexpected time alone perhaps in a place that you always thought of yourself as escaping might be sending you into a tailspin:.
Above all β know that a polyester gown and a few bad speeches were never going to give you the closure you needed. Graduation ceremonies are boring, booze cruises are overrated, and you already have within you the power to give no fucks.
