Letter to myself.

It's winter. Snow is piling up at the front door of my temporary refuge.

Today, 12th Jan 2021, I am still living in a semi conscious state waiting for this global situation to magically correct itself. As if I had gone to sleep, but would still continue living by muscle memory. Awful.

I wonder when are you reading this. Hopefully it is not too long from now.

On the other hand, I hope it is long from now, and you have already forgotten about everything I am writing down. It would be like discovering someone new that used to live within yourself. Maybe it could even provide some insight on your present...

We are happy. I think. I can't be sure. It is the year 2021 after all, so as happy as we can be.

Almost five years ago we began this journey, we left what we used to call home and we still have not turned back. The plan changes often. Sometimes is the beach, others is the mountains. It is certainly never where we currently are, which makes me wonder... Will we ever want to stop moving forward, moving on, moving? It has become a normal, like a comfort zone within the discomforts of change. I am not entirely sure we are ready to face that question, though. It could lead to bigger, deeper questions that we might not be ready to hear an answer to. Is it the same for us wherever we are now? Are we still running away?

I remember what it was like back there. Back home, back then. There used to be food (not enought for everyone, never enough for everyone), water, sun, friends, feelings. Humanity was still inside of us all and we felt a responsability to better ourselves and our world. Definitely not now. When it happened, everything started to deteriorate and we were pushed to the very edge. We lost ourselves. We, you and I, lost ourselves as well, do you remember that? We did things we are not proud of.

It happen so suddenly and evidently as an earthquake. Although, it wasn't an earthquake. It was nothing visible. Do you still think about it? I do. All the time.

It was like something switched off. Click. Inside all of our heads. All at the same time.

I do think about it constantly. I remember some people used to think it was a virus, a sickness, something that could be erradicated. Deep down we all knew better. Something had shut down, and it was not coming back anytime soon.

What followed was only logical if you think about it. Once that panic set in, and our brains stopped telling us to cooperate and be a part of this society, everything went to shit. Turns out, there is a difference between living with a few thousand people that do not care what happens to their fellow world citizens, and living with 8 billion of them. No one could feel empathy or even relate to others. As if we were all independent from one another. I felt it too... we felt it, too. We couldn't even care about our sisters, the people we used to love the most. We couldn't feel for anyone but ourselves and all the while remembering that we used to be different.

So we left.

Packed a bag with essentials, took a car, and started driving. It didn't last long of course, nobody worked anymore, so commodities soon ran out. Killing one another for what we wanted was a common occurrence: food, clothes, anything, we just took it. Lots of people died. How many? Who knows. No one was keeping count anymore. I would say it was anarchy, but anarchists sound more organised. This was complete and utter chaos. Desolation.

I write about it now and it feels like another life. I can't help but ask questions. I wonder if we were all tied in some way, cosmically, physically, spiritually... Maybe we were all part of the same organism. We are not connected now.

Five years have passed and I still can't feel anything for another human being. I know I still have the ability to feel, because that makes me a bit sad and nostalgic. And I feel things about myself. I also feel for animals sometimes. But not for humans. They are like rocks in the road; something you woud not think about twice.

Nature has bloomed. So I guess there is a silver lining. No one has ulterior motives anymore, so there is no reason to gain power, or money, or success. The goal is just to stay alive and stay alone. There is barely any contamination for that matter. Cities are smaller, and people do not live in community. Forests and jungles have began to take back the earth. We used to be so concerned about what we were doing to our planet, we were almost at the point of no return before all this. Could this have been the antidote? Maybe only humans could stop humans. Maybe this is wise Mother Nature, getting rid of us, as efficiently as she can.

Cold is reaching my fingers, and writing seems a bit more difficult now. I will have to try and get some warmth soom. Maybe a fire? I think I saw a fireplace when I entered this cottage...

The body in the living room is starting to smell a bit, it has already been a couple of hours. I will need to move it soon if I expect to stay here a bit longer.

I better get to work.

Dear me, hope this letter full of unorganised thoughts is a window to the past. A past that hopefully you no longer carry with you.

I will write again soon.