I guess one can make jokes about finding toilet paper on the black market (or rather brown market) which might not be too funny in the near future when the shit hits the fan.

Living on Maui in previous years, I had seen this before. Hurricane warnings always prompted Hawaiians to run to Costco and fill their baskets with toilet paper. I’ve always had an insecurity when it comes to toilet paper, so I totally get it, so I get in my car and go get it before I have to leave. Today it is nowhere to be found.
We were forced to pause through the cosmos in a matter of days, a society suddenly brought into compliance.

At first, my inbox was awash with conjecture, conspiracy theories and apocalyptic speculation and I can say I had my own ideas. Not having fought for flu shots over the years (and not having had the flu for thirteen of those years), I feared the vaccine more than the virus. What if he had a chip, the Mark of the Beast? tracking device? Just say’.

It was as if this virus was equipped with a warhead, an artificial intelligence meant to graze the elderly and the sick or immunocompromised (me), but then it seemed to attack the young. Was it a virus released in the time it passed through chemtrails? Was it floating around in the 5G radio waves or was it inherent in our genetic code to be activated by a Terminator (or Exterminator) drone?

At the same time, I began to notice that I had a sore throat and a cold. I wondered if fear was the real contagion because the more I read about this, the worse I felt. What travels faster than the speed of light and spreads faster than a virus? Fear. It is the intention that counts.

For me, it’s something like this. I’m not paranoid about getting hit by a car when I leave the house, but I’m not going to go out and stand in front of one.

I began to watch carefully. I noticed mindless and careless people throwing caution to the wind with a lack of concern for others, their unseen actions reverberating in the air. The young people thought that it would not affect them and did not worry about their elderly relatives or anyone else. Then like Whack-a-Mole, pow. The warhead was aimed at young people.

A friend of mine told me that she was ready to beat up her husband. Being close to those we love and proximity breeds contempt. I’m alone here, but sometimes I even need to sit outside to get away from myself.

Life is, in effect, imitating art. All pandemic movies suddenly appear in our world. Enforced and enforced isolation is the perfect example of “Divide and Conquer”.

A war wouldn’t keep people inside and neither would news of an alien invasion. But the idea of ​​the mother going out and dying does a good job.
Prisoners are now being released and we are confined. What’s wrong with this image?

Our days are slowing down and reprioritizing. I was surprised the other day when I received a call from an unknown number. It turns out that my hairdresser, without asking my permission, gave a single guy my contact information thinking we should all have a little fun while this is going on. After a few minutes, I politely apologized.

An old flame I hadn’t seen in fifteen years texted me. He remains a very dear friend. He wanted a recent photo of me, so I sent him one. He said I still looked glamorous. I can tell you this. Glamor is not one of my priorities. He was wearing a sweatshirt, albeit a cute one, and was holding a bottle of wine. But Hollywood makeup and production doesn’t appeal to me one bit. Neither is having a hot date with a stranger that my hairdresser thinks might turn me on. Ew.

Scammers are ruthlessly trying to sell things to desperate people. Where is that Whack-a-Mole now?

Maybe all this ordeal is the Universe’s way of making a point. We are not in control and we are truly ONE now. EVERYTHING we do affects the whole. If we choose to travel or party like it’s 2020, we subject ourselves to possible illness and not only that, we subject those near us and beyond to the same.

Mother Earth could have had enough. We might end up slithering like puppies on the grass to clean ourselves up. This is the great humiliation, the great takeoff.

Every morning I slowly open one eye at a time, hoping that the dream has changed from a nightmare into a world where awareness and compassion reside and
conquer.

Until then, I take refuge in peace.