The internet, the pandemic and feelings.

The internet is magic. It has questions, answers, advice and trolls. And often it’s difficult as a human being to navigate through this dark maze and seek what you need and what is right for you. But it is home now because of the pandemic.

The pandemic basically made everything bleak and life depressing, as the death tolls increased without signs of fading, and people suffered and governments blundered through the year, trying to keep people safe and in some cases, denying the fatality of the situation.

People died, lost jobs and were left destitute. Economies were crippled, the ecosystem went crazy and fear washed out the shores of hope for humanity. 

When you realize the extent of trauma and debris left over from the lives of millions of people in your country alone, it feels rather shallow to claim that you are stressed. Especially when you haven’t lost anyone to the virus, been safe because you’re still a student with a family and everything has been conveniently brought to your fingertips because of the age of the internet.

Despite all of that how can you dare to feel stressed or anxious or depressed?

And yet, I feel like trash. Like hot garbage left in the sun for so long it’s dry, so dry that even flies don’t wanna keep me company. (Just because I’m terrible at metaphors does not mean I’m going to stop using them.) 

I feel alone and exhausted and tired though I know that my family’s got my back, that I have financial security in case of a medical emergency and a roof over my head and I don’t have to wonder if I’ll have food to eat when I’m hungry.

And yet I feel sad and apathetic and furious, sometimes all at the same time like trying to ride a rollercoaster which is sky-diving off the freaking space station. (Okay, they’re getting worse ^-^)

Yes, I’m whining though I don’t even know why I am or who I am anymore. And accomplishing simple things seem like Herculean tasks and I’m clearly not an offspring of Zeus. And because people think that my ‘hobbies’ need to go because I’m at a serious point in life. 

How am I always at a serious point in life? Always at a point where I need to make it count because books can wait and writing is just a silly way to waste time and drawing is not an option in life.

Who am I if I’m not writing or reading? 

How do I know what I should desire to be if I don’t even know who I am?

I don’t know if I’m driving myself crazy or if I’m already crazy and am driving myself to be normal, rather unsuccessfully. 

I do not know if it’s all in my head or exaggerated. And I do not know how to fix this.

So, I decided to look it up on the internet because I’m a fix-er. I like fixing things and having conclusions and knowing. And multiple people on the internet mentioned that it was a phase, because life. And so many more who suggest that I should just snap out of it and be more grateful. 

In conclusion, the internet sucks. I don’t know if I’m going crazy. And I have a stack of assignments and another series of tests to think about. 

And all I wanna do is joke about death and vodka and look at the bright blue sky and compose terrible, dark poetry. 

I’ll get to doing all of that if someone will just let me know when exactly is it that I am allowed to be myself.

A/N: I feel things and it sucks. And the internet is a void so I hope if I put my emotions into words and let them go, I’ll lose some of them. 

*looks up if you can lose a part of your soul on the internet*

*quietly closes down multiple tabs and goes back to assignment research*

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