Stepping out of the house for me has always been a low-key anxious affair. There is a world full of possibilities of people hurting me or my loved ones, or on a good day, the possibility of an unpleasant encounter with human beings. Human beings are…hard to be around. Of course there are much better days where I almost forget this potential. But those are fewer.
Funny thing is you wouldn’t know this from my demeanour. I can strike up a conversation with strangers, speak for a while with people I’ve just met, and can even go out and party with a group where most are friends of friends. Well, in the pre-Corona times of course, actually, a little before that. My patience for humanity has dwindled over time.
It’s the lack of control I suppose. Human beings are random variables, like my Dad says children are unguided missiles, but I think people are unguided missiles. How am I to relax in such a world? And I know it sounds like the most warped view of the world because good things happen on a second by second basis every day too. But then, I do step out because of that. I do enjoy the world because of that. I just don’t enjoy it as well because of the other things. Can one enjoy and not enjoy at the same time? Interesting, must follow that little thought at some point.
I realised stepping out in Corona times though, is a whole heightened anxiety explosion – I mean human beings still stay with their deadly potential to fuck it all up, but now they can do it through a virus! And it can be done by marginally intelligent people too, no longer are the dumb ones the sole torchbearers of destruction. I mean I ought to be on the first SpaceX Shuttle to Pluto. Or better, rest of humanity.
I have all the makings of a cat lady. Except, I love to travel, and am more a dog person. When I travel as well I don’t want too many people, I try not to go in peak tourist season if possible. I want to either go alone (still a to-do) or with people I trust. Sigh. When will I be able to travel again?
insearchofthebeautiful 