Internally I debate whether I should get up now or in half an hour just when a line about the room being a safe place hits through the distorted sound of my earphones. They are old and broken. Should I put some tape on them today? Or maybe tomorrow?
After all, one day is the same as the last, and I live with the uncomfortable certainty that tomorrow will also be the same. And although I shouldn’t take everything for granted, exactly how I preached it at the beginning of the online classes, I do.
“How do you feel about the virtual class? Are you learning well? If you need anything, you know you can contact me.” And I really appreciate your interest, Professor, but this lonely beast prefers to play with the bones of the meat it ate alone.
“During Holy Week there will be a strict quarantine.” This is what the minister of health preaches. Easter — which, by the way, is far from being a week of reflection — is used only as a good excuse to vacation. I think this time will be an exception.
I have been afraid most of my life. I’ve been trying to decide when I should start living. Just in November last year I began to think about that. I decided to start living in February. Just how you decide if you should buy the grape or strawberry juice. I decided if I should start having fun or not . . . This is how it works . . . isn’t it?
I believed so before exhaustively studying the vigorous lyrics of dozens of songs. And then, I understood it: living is that thing that we improvise and makes us feel euphoria, not knowing if what we are doing is right or wrong. But despite everything, the one who matters is you, then you will be able to give those you love the place they deserve in your life. The rest comes by itself. A sunset, a small flower, a dandelion, or hummingbirds. Everything is profit. The beauty of simplicity is profit. And the truth that you can only see with your eyes closed is the true answer.
There are few things that motivate me to swallow the lump in my throat . . . They actually help loosen it up a bit. This music that now rises to the charts from soft beats, other beats that are brighter, to conversations celebrating new achievements, is the result of the hard work of seven and millions more.
And although my heart stopped beating from time to time, the beats and vocals got it going again. This place where I am the pillar of strength, I could find that my base is seven lights that shine brightly. I could fear, but rather than fear, I will embrace it. After all, this is what I’ve learnt since my unexpected love for my room began.
@rinymochi. Student, writer, and daydreamer. (Costa Rica)
Illustration By: Kit @thisiskeets (Twitter) / @jellyfishcakes (Instagram)
RVN (2021). The room struggle time. The Rhizomatic Revolution Review , (2). https://ther3journal.com/issue-2?the-room-struggle-time
RVN. “The Room Struggle Time.” The Rhizomatic Revolution Review , no. 2, 2021, https://ther3journal.com/issue-2?the-room-struggle-time.
The Room Struggle Time by RVN is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
© RVN 2021