Anarchy & Anxiety

Why, yes, of course I like watching the world fall apart! Living through the collapse of Western society has been a lifelong dream of mine, and now that dream is finally coming true!

Granted, it’s a lot less violent than I thought it would be. But, then again, this is just the beginning. This first few days have been the amuse-bouche of global panic as everyone around me tail spins into “What are we going to do about toilet paper?” Me? I’m gearing up for the fun stuff. You know what I’m talking about.

Dating at the beginning of the end of the world has likewise been interesting. My Hinge matches are drying up, probably because we’re all ‘social distancing’ nowadays. (No we’re not. It’s the East Bay. Oakland will forever be grimy as fuck, and seeing as this virus wreaks havoc on the old, this pandemic has become a cause célèbre of the younger generation. And I love a good reason to party, so, party on, Garth. Party on, Wayne.) Coronavirus is really wreaking havoc on hook up culture, which bums me out because despite the fact that I don’t actively participate in hook up culture on that level anymore, it was always comforting to know it was there. Kinda like driving by your middle school. No, I’m not going in, but I like the flood of memories and nostalgia for the good times I get every time I see it.

Granted, this pandemic is really thinning out the crowds out there. Everyone who’s at one of my favorite bars this weekend is definitely a self selected bug chaser and/or gift giver, which also means they’re all fucking freaks on some level because bug chasing/gift giving isn’t a new thing. That’s some post-AIDS epidemic shit. Far be it from me to parallel these two widely different virus outbreaks, but that is some next level “I don’t give a fuck” that came from a previous, more freakadelic generation. We straights can act like we’re being hardcore, but are we? Really? It’s not even in the same ball park. Although, one part of me wonders: is that hot? And am I really going to…nah. That’s between me and the next person I fuck.

Speaking of the next person I fuck, it’s probably going to be the same person I fuck because, well, there’s nothing quite like a quarantine to make you realize, “Yeah, I can Netflix and chill with this person for the next two months.” Which isn’t shade by any means, but, rather, just not my usual approach to dating. I was planning on doing what I always do when I date someone: hem and haw for 6-9 months about whether or not this is worth my time, then dump him for a month, then get back together, then dump him again, then get back together with him, and so on and so forth until both our resolve has dissipated into mutual bitterness and angst. However, given current circumstances, I’m going to have to recalibrate a few things. Who knows, maybe a good, old fashioned quarantine is just what I need in order to surmount my toxic dating habits. Doubt it, but who knows!

I just want someone who will hold my hand and cough into the world with me while we watch all of this burn to the ground. True romance.

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