JessicaRulestheUniverse.com

SM North Edsa on First day of MECQ. Photo by Mark Samson.

Disoriented. Nothing’s changed—I have no intention of going out, and my street is still quiet—but now that the city is waking up from a 60-day coma, I dread returning to reality. Everything was simple in lockdown (ECQ). My only concern was to stay safe and maintain my sanity. The future was conditional—we could not assume that we would stay virus-free and get there. As long as I had food, books, videos, writing materials, and an internet connection (and the cats were well-supplied), I was fine.

This preference for the certainty of lockdown to the uncertainty of freedom explains the attraction of totalitarian regimes. Living is hard and taking responsibility is a pain in the ass, so people are content to outsource their thinking and let someone else make their decisions. Much has been written about the erosion of civil liberties during this pandemic, but these are extraordinary times. We find ourselves in a strange position, asking “Are you sure it’s safe to leave the house? Has the curve been flattened? Shouldn’t we stay quarantined until there’s mass testing?” Insisting on your right to go out and live your life puts you and other people at risk. Cue video of American protesters doing pushups on the street to demand that the gyms reopen.

Now the future is back, and with it all the aggravations of 21st century life. The bills to pay, the rent, taxes, obligations. Back to the never-ending pursuit of paying projects, with the added horror of a shrinking economy with bleak prospects for freelance writers and performing artists.

For the first time in two months I forgot a Zoom appointment. I was busy looking online for pictures of people swarming the shopping malls and courting a second wave of infections. My idea of horror has changed from demons and vampires to crowds of regular humans smooshed into public spaces, breathing on each other.

I’m not going to use the term du jour “new normal”. I do not like the word “normal”, which has long been used as a stick to beat people who differ from the majority.