Damn, I really felt this piece and wanted to share. Check out the original author Violet Blue at her Patreon. Without further ado: 👇
Let's normalize not getting back to normal.
The pandemic is the opposite of being homeless. That part of my life as a teenager... stealing remains from Haight Street restaurant tables and sleeping under painters' tarps in Buena Vista Park, the rule was keep moving.
Afterward, in the various stages of my after times, the impulse wouldn't shake off. I didn't like to live anywhere too long. I cycled through groups of friends (in a friendly way; I am still friends with people from throughout my life). I didn't really like to keep lovers for very long. I never let them stay over. If I tried to stay with them, I invariably left before dawn. I am better at leaving than breathing.
But the pandemic is all about stay. That word no one ever said to me on the streets or, so it seemed, in relationships.
Stay is the word no one ever says to homeless people.
Stay home. Don't go anywhere or you might die, or end up deeply broken or somewhere in between, or be the one who does it to someone else. Don't go. Stay with me, I ask you once a week here. That voice is so raw and vulnerable, like it's someone else's.
By the time you read this I will have not spoken to another human being in about 48 hours, again. I keep thinking I need to fix that, like it's a repair that can be made which I am just putting off.
We're all watching a big push to "get back to normal." Schools, bars, the commute, concerts, sports, brunches, social interactions, house parties and going to places without knowing what you want first, what you need.
It's good to be reminded of who you once were, to measure how far you've come. I don't know what's next as we face the fourth spike of Covid-19, but it won't look like what came before.
Neither do we.
-- Violet Blue