Open your frequencies, check your channels. This is an emergency dispatch broadcasting from one bunker under siege to the next, one isolation survivor to anyone else out there struggling with that voice in your head right now.
You know the voice I'm talking about. The one that's only gotten louder as the country moves deeper into lockdown. The one nattering endlessly on about how you didn't do anything today. The one telling you that it was never your job, your social obligations, the world outside the front door that kept you from finishing the book, fixing up the house, learning a new language. That the true enemy to your dream's realizations was your lazy ass all along, and this collective stint in Solitary we're all serving only proves it true. The voice whispers this between the menu screens demarcating one marathon from the next even as one series demarcates one day from another. The voice is there every hour you lay in bed unable to find the strength to rise from it. The voice is there in the slow motion trauma unfolding one click across our feeds at a time. Worse is when you search where the memory of human contact used to burn only to find the voice lives there now to remind you you're out of reasons why anyone ever put up with you.
So let me remind you of one crucial fact.
Fighting the voice is DOING something.( Collapse )