Sitting in my cell, I am thinking about all the times I walked around the block, stopping to talk to neighbors and strangers. We probably never got much closer than six feet, but we didn’t think about it — at least I didn’t. I certainly didn’t spit as I was walking. Now I miss walking freely without thinking. I gave it up some while back because I got lazy. Nobody made me. Now they are making me. They’re making me think about things I don’t want to while I’m walking. I want to think about the birds and trees and sky and about the dog on the corner that will come to greet me long before I get there. I have to think about not getting too close to someone old who’s closer to dying.
I’m old.
We’re all dying. I guess my preferred way of getting taken out by a bus is no longer much of an option because WE CAN’T RIDE BUSES at the moment so I can’t walk in front of one when the time comes.
I guess trucks are still running.
Didn’t they just tell us to hop on buses to help the climate? Now they are telling us to get off. They also said that hand sanitizer was creating super bugs but now the bug they want to kill that they are calling super needs us to use the bad, bad bug making hand sanitizer.
Two people just walked by my cell. They were seven feet apart if not eight. I guess they didn’t want the troops coming to knock them over and carry them away to a leper colony before they got back to their individual houses and their own imposed cells. They looked like they were marching.
There are satellites above in the sky where we can’t see them. And drones.
“Support the troops.”
We’ve gotten our marching orders.
I didn’t mind staying in until they told me to.
I liked my house. I liked my yards. I still do. I hate people telling me what to do and now all my friends are too — telling me what to do. “Stay inside.” “Listen to the CDC. They know more than we do. They are experts.”
Yes they do. I wonder what. What do they really know that they aren’t telling? They are expert at manipulating people.
I wish my friends had listened when I told them to quit using artificial intelligence. Now we’ve made our beds we are expected to lie in them. I didn’t make that bed. I made a peaceful life where I could try to grow my own food and keep myself happy in the little cell that I had made. I’ve never used an I-phone for all my business. I didn’t ask for wifi. I didn’t want faster downloads. I watch old VHS and DVD on appliances that plug into the grid.
I’d rather call my cell a soft cocoon.
Butterflies make cocoons.
I’m sure my cocoon will be destroyed before much longer in the name of what is good for all the rest. My friends will probably be standing on the other side of the gate cheering on the official story.
“Take her out. Take her to the lepers. She deserves it because she wouldn’t comply with her marching orders. She’ll just hurt the rest of us who are doing so much better because we’re obeying.”
Bah, bah black sheep.
I shall go the way I want to for as long as I am able. Thelma and Louise are somewhat heroes in my mind.
Writing Spool 