Oh hi 2022, didn’t see you there

It’s been a long time since I’ve shared my thoughts here by the small warmth of the candle light. There’s this little fucky thing where there’s both too much to say, and too little to say at the same time, but hey, let’s give it a shot. 

So. 2022. Hi. Wel..come? Not sure what you are. Are you a… new year? Ugh. Feels as if we’ve waltzed from a year of ambiguity and despair into something that is some kind of natural morphine; it’s like trying to dip your feet into the grass on a hot summer day, but the grass isn’t there- in fact, you can’t feel anything at all. 

It’s not difficult to see why. We’re now into our what, hundredth goddamn wave of this godforsaken plague? Many of us have barely seen our family; others haven’t seen any family this whole time. We’ve had to face cancellation after cancellation after cancellation – concerts, events, studio jams, fucking everything that involves being social and being human, or feeling the interaction with another human. Depression is high, anger is high; no no, 2022 doesn’t feel like a new year, it feels like a continuation to this bullshit age of malaise; and we all seem to be riding this ceaseless wave of fear and uncertainty well into its third instance. Tired of this shit, we want our lives back.

Signed, me and 7 billion other humans. 

Yup, and we’re being hunted down by a goddamn transformer. What’s next, Optimus Prime? Bumblebee!? Oh fuck, not Megatron. That one will end us all. 

Wait. Isn’t Omicron the asshole who transforms into a planet-eating planet? Maybe we are fucked.

I’ve come for your little planet, you little squishy fuckers

There’s that word again, maybe. Maybe we’ll go see a movie. Maybe I’ll see my family again. Maybe everything will go back to normal soon. It’s like we’re all living in some kind of Vera Lynn song, and that one sunny day, perhaps, we’ll see each other again. 

Fuck, even the anti-vaxxers are tired of this. 

With words of encouragement so far and few between these days, it’s almost hard to keep going. Keep going with the ambiguity, and the same played-out mundane existence. You had that same stale havarti cheese yesterday, and you had it again today, and likely you’ll have it again tomorrow, and it still tastes like cardboard dipped in kerosene. It’s as if we all need a sudden injection of suddenness and excitement; of positive ambiguity, of surprise. So, if you’re like me, you think of shit like, “what if I wear a cape to work (or in my Zoom meeting) today?” or, “what if I walk into a Dodge dealership and buy the stupidest, most expensive HEMI-powered Challenger I can afford, money be damned” or – you get the point. 

I mean, there’s a good reason why Amazon’s stock is like, 3000% up for fuck’s sake. We ALL need that feeling of surprise, of “wow” feeling that our brains are designed to feel soothed by. It’s like we’ve all become Mr. Bean, where he mails the Christmas cards to himself and then acts surprised when he opens them. It’s fucking sad, but we need that little kick; I mean, who needs so many types of candles, or Star Wars Stormtrooper helmets? No one, and everyone, that’s why. And fuck you Jeff Bezos, you’ve profited off our misery during every second of this whole ordeal. Hope there’s a parking spot reserved for you, asshole; and I hope it looks like a dick, much like your stupid-ass “spaceship.”

That’s a Space Dick, isn’t it? Photo via Washingtonian

Where was I – oh right, the artificial compensation to our battered souls, yes. 

But you know what? It’s okay. It’s all okay. If a little plastic thing brings you a temporary lapse of pleasure, fuck it; or those slippers you ordered makes your feel all warm and fuzzy in conjunction with that cheap wine, fuck it. Gotta keep down that anxiety somehow, no matter how silly it is.

It’s. All. Okay. Don’t blame yourself for anything. Don’t feel guilty for being unproductive. Don’t feel guilty for not being able to connect to anything or anybody. Don’t. Feel. Guilty. What we’re all going through isn’t normal; in fact it’s unprecedented, alien, abnormal, verbenfucked, whatever you wanna call it; none of us are okay – and it’s okay to admit it.

I guess it’s all too tempting to let ourselves into the morphine and alcohol induced numbness of 2022, but it’s important to also keep our heads above water; to maintain. Hug your partner. Hug your room mate. Hug your cat or dog. Hug your damn pillow. Talk to people, even if it’s via a monitor. I know it sucks, but just do it, okay?

If 2022 is gonna be another year in the trenches, then fucking bring it.

*mic drop*

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