Like usual (for a month or so now), I woke up at 4 today and dragged myself out of bed. The last of my hash was left so I decided to roll a joint before taking a shower. But I was too sleepy to get high so I've saved the joint for when the dark thoughts will come back. I spent the rest of the day browsing shows on Netflix, unable to find anything interesting enough to keep me watching for more than an episode of it. And I'll continue to do this until 7 the next morning when I'm so tired that I'll fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. For somebody who already had a hard time waking up during normal days with a set routine and temporary purpose, I find it incredibly hard to get out of bed now. I keep forcing myself back to sleep, to my dreams, where my mind builds an entertaining world. Wake life is too mundane, too redundant. But it has also always been like that. This quarantine just feels like an excuse for my depressed ass to stay in bed and create no meaning in life. Because now every single person is finding it hard to adjust. It's finally okay to not be productive all the time. It's like all the 'normal' people out there are getting a sneak peek into the life of those who have felt alone and empty all their lives. It makes me worry about my friends who were busy with this rat-race of life. The isolation, the stagnancy, it must be so new to them. The outside world seems so out of reach tonight.
By Sameen,
Karachi, Pakistan.
Comments