How I Took Trips During Quarantine

A Satirical Recollection

This may be my quarantine talking, but experiencing love and intimacy is extremely unhealthy. Planning trips, going out for a drink, seeing films, strolling in the park, commuting via public transportation, and delving into the unknown are all toxic mistakes of the past. And to be frank, I don’t miss it at all. The range of geographical freedom we had up to mid-March disgusts me! I am tranquil. I am completely in control, right here in my bedroom. I get enough of a rush from the words “indefinite period” that refer to our mandated home-isolation.

Quarantine, it’s pure ecstasy! I’m talkin’ cooking out of boredom. Sweeping an already clean floor. Pacing in the kitchen on Tuesdays, then in the laundry room on Thursdays. I might even shake things up today and do it in my parents’ closet. Why not? It’s Saturday! That’s not even counting the type of shenanigans I’ll get into after I’ve had a couple of glasses of wine.

Through limitation, the opportunities are truly endless. Most people don’t agree that this is true, but I am not most people. By having my soul open to nothing, I am infinitely exposed to everything. Hear me out:

The other day, I was sniffing every perfume bottle I own, when suddenly I began to float. I levitated through my bathroom so that I had a birds-eye view of those mischievous little perfume bottles. “Hey friends,” I waved to them, “smellin’ good down there!” I rode my high, and my old imaginary friend Billy took my hand and rode with me. Although I hadn’t seen her since childhood, it felt like we were picking up right where we left off. We surged through time together. She whispered words of affirmation in my ear. “You is kind,” she said, “You is smart. You is important.” Billy had remembered my love language. My limbs became limp. I was complete jelly, and I melted away along with my worries.

Before we reached the year 2102, Billy told me my time had come to return back to my bathroom. I was saddened by this news, but her warm grin and dimples the size of craters convinced me I was ready. The soft music began to fade, and I landed on the tile floor, slowly rolling vertebrae after vertebrae. As I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, I realized I had glimpsed my past and my future. All it took was a few (30+) fragrant sniffs of perfume.

Could I have ever achieved such an enlightening transcendence without my new friend, Quarantine? No, definitely not.

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