Time In Quarantine

Lost

I have never felt so lost in my entire life. 

Waking up every day without any direction, without anywhere to go, without anything to do, and without anyone to talk to, I'm simply stuck standing in the precipice of my inner self. The only way to move forward is either to jump right to nowhere or to just keep standing still head's up. I don't know what to do. I cant see light in my direction. 

I look at my phone and flinch at the bright screen that screams 3:00 AM. "Fuck," I mutter in silence. I realize that all hopes of going back to sleep diminished the moment my brain registers what the eyes see - darkness. 

I then think of three things to do today. One, find another unique place to eat because I don't feel like eating any kind of noodles anymore. Two, do grocery run because I have already consumed a significant amount of instant noodles, junk food, and soda since the last time I did my grocery. Three, find another good book to read from the shelf downstairs in the lobby. Lastly, send emails, and contact people to check anything from the Philippine embassy to know if they have plans at all of repatriating stranded Filipinos.

It has been a week since Vietnam has issued a national isolation order across the country to contain the virus and prevent it from spreading. I have been inside the hostel together with five other foreigners in a room that can occupy eight people. I decided to just stay in the room reading a book, writing a journal, and trying to stay alive for the whole week. I talk to my roommates sometimes, but mostly just little talks. Nothing grand. Not even a get-to-know conversation. We just greet each other "hi", "good morning", and "good evening" whenever we catch our eyes looking shocked for accidentally staring at each other. I have always wanted to talk to them, to be honest, and tell them how I really feel, but I think they all give off different vibes that loudly say "I'm not about to talk to you so mind your own business" so I guess we're on our own. 

I glance at my phone again. 3:30 AM. I've been deep in my thoughts for thirty minutes and I still can't think of anything concrete to do. I still haven't been able to decide on what matters. I'm at a point where I cant make a major life decision. Like what the hell am I doing with my life? Why am I still here in Vietnam in the middle of the pandemic? Do I stay here for a long time or do I go back to the Philippines? Do I still want to stay in my job or do I resign? I have so many things in my mind that I cant think of anything else anymore. 

And just when my mind is already full of bull, I then start to question all my decisions in the past - why did I even come here in the first place? Why didn't I just cancel this trip? Why was I so stubborn in trying to do something new and adventurous? Why couldn't I just stay at home and do what I have always done? Why can't I just stay at peace?

Most times my feelings keep revolting. It's as restless as the waves of the ocean crashing to the shore. I can't seem to stop feeling what I'm feeling. I just plunge right through anything I want to crash myself into even when I know that doing so will split myself in half.

That's why I'm here in Vietnam in what seems like the worst time to travel. I couldn't have thought otherwise though. I would have wanted to be here by hook or by crook and nothing can stop me from doing what I want. So here I am apparently stuck, with a few more days to go until my vacation leave at work is over. I keep musing on the decisions I made and it's telling me that everything is turning out to be a disaster. 

I check my phone again. 4:00 AM. Another thirty minutes have passed. I can only hear the snores of my roommates in a seemingly obvious deep sleep while I am in an obvious waking state. I can no longer get back to sleep. I'm too flooded with once a 3 AM thoughts to 4 AM regrets. The floodgates of thoughts have severed and could not be closed anytime soon. The lockdowns could not help it keep shut my brain either. I could no longer go out and wander around Ho Chi Minh to tire myself looking for great finds and discoveries.

Before the lockdown, I usually wake up at 6 AM to prepare, go out at 7 AM, and walk around the busy streets of HCM. The streets are usually packed with motorbikes in different colors, shapes, and sizes. The main goal of each bike is to try to get passed each other, like a motocross for scooters inching toward the finish line, without any regard for any pedestrian or whatsoever. Each corner is bustling with coffee shops and food stalls that sell comtam, pho, or banh mi. There are endless foreign choices that I have familiarized myself with for the past week. I've gotten fond a lot of how life works around this part of town. I think I have immersed myself in their culture, albeit lightly, by talking to people and eating their food. There are so many unimaginable things you can uncover by simply eating their food. From the way locals prepare their food, the spices they use, and the ingredients they put, they're all telling. If one just tries to understand and look closer. 

It's 4:30 AM. I have a bad feeling about myself. I feel a stabbing pain in my chest. It feels like it has been kicked from up above. I feel the increasing pressure that is both painful and uncomfortable. I realize that I am having a hard time to breath. In an instant, I feel like my sweat glands excrete ice-cold water. I am now panicking. I can't breathe. 

I sit up right away, feeling lightheaded at the same time. I look around and everything looks darker than it ever was an hour earlier. I still hear the snores of my roommates, but it weirdly sounds like it's echoing. Everything is echoing. It's like I'm inside a cave. I move to the side of the double-decked bed preparing to go down when I glance on my left and see myself lying on the bed. I gasp at the sight of my own self. Beside my body are empty wrappers of potato chips, durian seeds, and 2-litter of Coke. I am confused.

I look closer and see my body lying still. My right hand clutching on my chest. My left hand stiff on the side. My mouth and my eyes open in shock. My lips turn purple. My nails are darker. I finally realize what has befallen upon my very eyes. I am looking at my body in a tragic demise.

Is this what death looks like? Is this how it feels? Has my body become an empty vessel devoid of life, dreams, and hopes? Am I just a lost soul trap in limbo?