A Prose With No Direction

another wave

The plague, the new plague, as she calls it, has greatly affected humanity.

Deaths, piling up to the thousands, all around the world.

The healers are working their best.

The tutors are working overtime. 

People are working from home.

And we're all still shut away from the nature of the world. 

Closed restaurants. 

Closed parks.

Closed malls.

Closed beaches.

Still, everything is closed.

But throughout the madness this new plague has caused, people have seemed to normalized.

People began spending time with family.

People are becoming grateful.

People are becoming aware.

People are finally praying.

And most of all, our Earth is healing.

Yes.

Nowadays, the new plague is seeming to die down. 

But as I look out the window on this warm day, the sun blinding and burning me with its light, I notice another wave of the new plague approaching. 

I see the second wave.

Like the new plague, it's asymptomatic—one does not know whether he or she has contracted it until it's been spread to the thousands. 

That's how dangerous and infectious this new yet aged plague, the one she calls fear, is. 

But I see a new strand, a foreign, mutated strand, of this new plague before my eyes.

And I think she sees it, too. 

Feet, hundreds of them, march through the streets of Downtown, flags waving, mouths yelling, cars honking. 

They march and march and march, protesting, exercising their abused right of the First Amendment. They yell, they scream, they laugh, they deny, as hundreds and thousands around the nation and around the world perish in this new plague. 

They demand.

And demand.

And demand. 

Wanting more than what they already have. 

Ungrateful that they're still living.

While more deserving people aren't.

They mock and mock and mock the deaths of the affected, the deaths of the ones who fought, the deaths of the many people around the world. 

They mock them.

With their idiotic demands. 

They're spreading the disease even further as they gather in groups more than a hundred. 

That's why there's a new strand. 

The new plague has mutated to survive. 

And that very mutation is happening before my eyes as eyes glue themselves onto the television screen.

Hundreds.

Hundreds are spreading the new plague and its new strand. 

It is no longer fear that we should fear.

It is no longer fear that's incurable. 

It's now stupidity. 

It is now stupidity that we should fear.

It is now stupidity that is incurable. 

Oh, who am I kidding?

Stupidity has always been incurable. 

"Open the hair salons!" They demand. 

"Open the nail salons!" They demand. 

"Open the beaches!" They demand. 

"The new plague is a hoax!" They exclaim.

While being infected, themselves. 

Stupidity and ignorance now plagues us all, starting the second wave of this new plague.

Stupidity. 

Stupidity is what is killing us. 

How pathetic is that?

A great nation.

A great people.

A great leader.

All killed by stupidity. 

Hell, even our great leader said he didn't have the new plague.

And its new strand. 

But the very next day, a broadcast he makes. 

And in that broadcast, he proclaims Lysol is the cure.

For both fear and stupidity.

Yes.

Our leader has it bad.

A symptom of this new strand is impulsive actions.

He's got the new plague bad. 

And yet, he denies and denies and denies. 

Oh, who am I kidding? 

Getting into politics. 

I turn off the television and gaze outside the window, imagining the masses marching and marching and marching, demanding and demanding and demanding for more than what they already have.

I try to see it in their perspectives though, losing their jobs and their normal everyday life. I see, and I understand with the bills and the need to feed for mouths and such. I understand we want things to be reopen. I get it. We all want to return to how life was before, to when things were just nine-to-five jobs and politics. All of us want that.

But it will only take us longer to go back to our past selves if the plague keeps spreading.

If we keep gathering in the masses. 

If we keep fighting for something that'll only kill us in the end. 

I've never had a political stance before nor will I ever voice my opinions about it.

But as I look out the window, imaging the new plague's new strand spreading, I'm worried that it'll take us longer until we can finally go back to our lives in the past.

.

.

.

.

.

The new plague is spreading.

And it's spreading with a new strand.

All we can do for now is wait.

Wait until they find a cure. 

But until then, I'll imagine.

Imagine a world that was like ours before the plague.

And until then, I'll watch.

Watch as stupidity claims the lives of those injecting Lysol and ignorance spreading like wildfire to those who deny.

Until then, I'll wait. 

And you should, too.