Do you watch teen dramas? There’s just something about them that I can’t resist. They’re corny as fuck, emotional, and generally unrealistic. Actually, they’re always unrealistic. These teens are running around doing shit you never would’ve done. Hell, you wouldn’t have the balls to do that shit now as an adult.
It’s been a little over a year since the pandemic was announced. Around March 13th, the world started panicking over this virus.
Let’s set the scene, make it a little intimate. I’m at home, my mom’s home, and to a certain degree, my home. Mostly her home – I’m a temporary resident, by choice, or so I say.
I’m a fan of the Irish exit. Grammarly tells me this term is outdated, so I’ll rename it as the vero exit. It’s my preferred method of exiting most locations and events, particularly parties and gatherings. The vero exit is leaving without saying goodbye. It’s really not that necessary to say goodbye.
It’s incredible how a mundane activity can carry so much weight and significance. Much like Eve from the garden of Eden, one of my issues can be directly traced back to picking fruit.
Stability has always been out of reach. I have moved to a new home more times than I’ve celebrated my birthday; I am more familiar with change than permanence. I feel at home when I’m on the road, and at peace when everything I know is being replaced.