By Bennett Johnson
COVID-19 is radical and relatively easy. Because of it I’ve made changes in my behaviour and heard new tunes. It has changed my diet and my spending habits. For food and money I now wholly rely on my parents, and I’m also waiting on the government for unemployment money… but I still have money to buy weed.
The pandemic realizations all kind of lead me to a feeling of being scary. I’ve always been afraid of seeming scary. I think it’s because I fear being alone, but my conscience class refuses to talk about emotions so I’m not sure what to think anymore. Anyways, in order to be ok, all I know is I gotta change because of COVID-19.
I’m not sure what I need to change besides needing to go outdoors. I went camping over spring break where there was no cell reception and was the happiest I’ve been for as long as I can remember, before quarantine.
After quarantining, I’ve been even happier. I’ve had some of the happiest moments of my college career locked in my house doing classes online. It has reminded me what unconditional love feels like and it has shown me how to be a better friend. I was no longer off the hook from family.
Experiencing trauma with my six housemates (and our dog Nellie) has disputely been one the most sensual moments of my life. Living in a house nick-named “Cush Hill” with six other troublemakers is like living on a beach or beyond Thunderdome. My housemates and I live life to the fullest on the asphalt river we call The Beach. Where our neighbors have started to farm in their lawn and the neighborhood makes time to sit outside and admire the blue sky. I can even join in by having class in the grass.
Sensual or not, all my days end in emotional turmoil and my mailman called me a private school kid. I’ve been forced to choose to stay home and ensure the peace. I should not leave the house and distract my friends from their quarantine duties. I have radically accepted that no matter what I do, whether it be walks six feet apart, facetime calls, or surprise-friend-cake-deliveries, my day will end in unfulfillment and I’ll look forward to tomorrow. All the while, I’ll know I’m still probably horny.
I like to think that I was born with a good attitude, but I really think the best attitude I’ve had is one I’ve taken on during quarantine. My house’s outlook on life seems to be: “Why see the world when you see the beach?”
My perspective of what is going on in society is removed from reality. While most my housemates and I have lost our jobs, we can all still afford to spend money on weed. Don’t get me wrong, weed dispensaries are an essential service and I’d actually be fucked if I couldn’t smoke or eat edibles.
I’m not sure if I masturbate more or less than before quarantine. I don’t even remember how I really talked before quarantine. I’ve made more depressed decisions to masturbate though, it used to be more of a fun thing I would do if I didn’t want to meet someone on Grindr. Now I hook up with people through chats and pictures and while that can be fun, I need more.
One of the things my house does to distract ourselves from our quaratine woes is talk about sex. We talk about how much cum we expel and how much cum we erupt. We talk about where we cum in the house, where we want to cum in the house. We hump the air. We are horny.
I’ve been on good terms with death since the first time I sucked a dick and ate an ass. Probably one of the most unsanitary things I could do, but I do it anyway and I enjoy it. I’ve never been able to donate blood because the red cross thinks I’ll spread aids or something… and I have dealt with the stigma of having STI’s too.
My life has never been sterile and I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to cum on my chest, alone in my room, flattening the curve. I will keep doing it. But I’m not sure how long I can last before I maybe fall in love again.
The new normal seems like it doesn’t want there to be new romances springing between strangers. I’m not afraid of Covid-19 but I’m afraid of breaking quarantine. I am afraid of worsening the conditions of hospitals and I am worried for those who need to go to the ICU right now.
But the things I miss… heartbreak, falling asleep with someone, I’m more afraid of forgetting them. I’m tired of cumming on a dirty pile of clothes or the shower. I’m not in a committed relationship and I’m surrounded by love stuck in quarantine. Maybe the quarantine orgy really will happen.