Thanks for joining me!, you two to three people that might curiously scroll through this!
Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton, Michael Scott.
It’s day 63 of this quarantine, which means that i finally caved and started a blog. Which isn’t really a bad thing, actually I don’t know why i said caved, I’ve been wanting to start a blog for a while and hell, if it helps me with anxiety and my writing then that’s killing two birds with one iPad.
Day 1 of quarantine wasn’t so bad because when something’s new there’s an excitement about it, a shift in the routine that makes you curious about what’s to come next. Also the dismissal of anything prominently dangerous coming along, especially with the disillusionment of believing that we’ll be okay because there’s an ocean between us and the impending doom (sounds like SOMEBODY DIDN’T PAY ATTENTION TO ANY SCIENCE CLASS).
But day 2 made ya realize that shit, we’re in for the long haul. And the long haul came to a head a week later, when it really started to settle in that we’re not going anywhere and it’s going to get worse.
Isn’t it amazing? How fucking GROUNDBREAKING these thoughts are? Like, you’ve never heard of anyone saying this! Totally new stuff coming out of my brain, thanks for tuning in!
I guess I’m saying this because it’s weird to think of that cutoff period. We’re two months in and each day keeps getting more intense, and there was a period of time where it wasn’t. Many are nostalgic about specific moments in life or hobbies and ways of life they enjoyed. But most of us are nostalgic about not living in fear, not having to worry if grandma is gonna ride the bullet into heaven or if scratching your nose will make ya join grandma along for that poorly worded metaphor that i stated above.
it really will be different moving forward, and fuck me if I don’t miss going to the movies. Which is wHy I HaVe tHaT pHoTo above! I miss it. I miss it HARD. I used to go twice a week to the AMC Century City, get myself Junior Mints or Raisinets, mind my own fucking business and just watch movies. That was turning into my routine Sunday afternoon, and it was taken away from me. And that took away my passion for movies. What’s the point of them, they’re not the cure for the virus. But as time went on and i started remembering moments like when Cap holds Thor’s hammer in Endgame or all of The Dark Knight, I realized that moments like those exist to help us get through moments. For some, like myself, it’d be a comic book movie, for others it can be Titanic, Parasite or Austin Powers, it can be anything that links you to a specific moment of loss and powerlessness and that film helped you forget, and for that they’re invaluable.
I hope to make movies again someday. I stopped because quite frankly, the last one almost killed me. Plus it’s a mountain of stress and problems and restless nights that it’s not even laziness that prevents me from starting again, it’s fear. But I’m starting to miss it. Because it feels like I’m putting the chips on the table, the chance of losing it all again. But with that comes the probability and chance of the bet paying off, of reaching another level of acclaim and most importantly, knowledge. I’ve been playing it safe for a while, and now that I have to play it safe inside to stay safe, I’m starting to realize that the best way to experience any sort of fear and risk and hope is to write your way into it.
Anyways, here’s a photo of me losing my mind. Which I am looking forward to writing more about.
The usual photo blog (by a mijo). 