Quarantine Bedtime Stories

The truth is that when Freddy Mercury sang Living on My Own he had no fucking clue what he was “talking” about. 

Dude, you think you’re special and know what lonely feels like? Really? Were you at the time of writing the song single and in a Corona virus quarantine for an indefinite period of time?! No! So shut the fuck up with your kindergarden stories. Ok, I am going to be nice and help you a little with your song:

 

Sometimes I feel I’m always walking too fast …between the kitchen and the bathroom

Dee do de de, dee do de de

I don’t have no time for no monkey business..Correction: I have all the time for watching all the monkeys doing their business. I would kill to have a monkey around now!

I get so lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, yeah

Got to be some good times ahead…(I told you to stop taking ecstasy!)

Sometimes I feel nobody gives me no warning… Really? Just try to go for a walk outside the house

 

Ok, so what do you do when you don’t see any human being for days on end? Easy: you start to befriend your furniture. 

All of a sudden you start to pay more attention to the objects around you and think about them in a “profound” way. 

Here is an entry from my journal on 3rd April: In the evening I had thoughts about things. Every object has a story of its own if you take a closer look at it. Everything is interesting if you go deeper. Even this door handle for example. OMG! I am sure there must be a story about this door handle but I am too superficial to see it. 

My friend Corina sent me a text message and I answered, sharing my new revelation. She wrote back: you sound like a Buddhist monk. 

Hm..maybe this is how Buddhism started, during an epidemic or during the invasion of the grasshoppers or something like that, when single people had just moved to a new flat and sex toys were just a thing of the future (like that machine in Star Trek on which you would press a button and would create a yummy something out of nothing: French fries, Tiramisu, Sangria, SARS-cov19 – all served after proper desinfection with a 70-degree alcohol.)

But I digress..

Back to the revelation! So all this time that I have lived my life with that voice at the back of my head repeating like a jaded souffleur: there is no meaning! All this time..I missed the point that there is a point. There is meaning!!! 

Everything I see around me has a story and a meaning, I just need to go a little beyond the surface. Take for example that convertible BMW in front of my building. I am sure there must be a story there. Like, a guy has bought it to fix his 40-year old midlife crisis using every cent he had carefully gathered in his piggy-bank since he was 4. 

Take, for example, this bed. I am sure there must be a story about this bed..It’s a king size bed. Oh, no, that’s an understatement. This is not a king size, it’s a Trans Siberian size bed, I have never seen such a big bed in my life. 

So what’s the story? This bed could easily be in a museum. For instance, in the Jiangnan Hundred Beds Museum, in Wuzhen, in China. (Wuzhen, not Wuhan, ok? Don’t freak out! China is big). This museum is the shelter for the “renowned” Qingbabuqiangong Bed.  

The Qingbabuqiangong Bed is 700 hundred years old, has three folds, was carved in three years and it is the treasure of the town. Ha! Really? It’s just because Chinese people haven’t seen my bed. Yet. (No, not yet, never, ever will they, I mean, you know what I meant and didn’t mean, whatever).  Even a Chinese bat would go: not bad, this bed!