Life in quarantine, even when it is done in my place with the company of a human being, has been hard. My time indoors is almost up at this point this entry was written, and I really can't wait.
Things (and People) that Got Me Through the Days
When you are obligated to stay indoors without access to the civilization that still progresses without your contribution and tosses you behind because you are practically behind bars (dramaticism of the day), you need to have something to work yourself on to take your mind off the realization.
I remember getting fidgety on the first day. I got it in the head to cook something even when I wasn't hungry. I talked to Johannes and Abhidha through Internet, complaining how I couldn't cook as much as I wanted to despite the overflowing fridge my mother packed for me. It was all the food delivery from my relatives that made up most of my meals. I also spent time watching TV shows and reading the book that I will be talking about in a bit. All the spare time I have in the middle would be spent either sleeping, which is the healthiest feat about my life in quarantine. Just kidding. I DISLIKE it. It is not the sleep-deprivation that caused the highly dormant behavior of mine. I would say it is a more inactivity-induced drowsiness, from which I sometimes feel nauseous after waking.
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| Mom dropping by to bring me some groceries; she wasn't supposed to enter the house, so she stayed outside. |
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| And I really do clean the house. |
My mom told me that my niece Eliza would be joining me on the fourth day after my arrival, and a full-house cleaning would be required. Things were a lot livelier with Eliza around, that is for sure. My daily routines are also drastically disrupted as well. The inaction sleep is still there, for sometimes our paths don't really clash, and I would wake up from my "nap" and walk in to see my niece falling asleep on the sofa, or vice versa.
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| How my niece arrived from the airport. |
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| She will forgive me for this. I hope. |
I would look out from my balcony window, longing for the outdoor air, sweeping dust from the cars zooming by and all, for I simply want to walk across something other than the tiles of my house. I need the sun flowing in my veins, which tells me that I would have enough energy to go on for the day. I plan to hike the mountains in the Yangming National Park, to start to fulfill my promise to trek more of my homeland. The road has always been there, like the jar of sugar on the first cabinet from the left in the kitchen; it's there when needed. I'm not extroverted, but there is nothing wrong with a person yearning to go out and see what happens where and when. And that is happening soon.
My high school friends are also there for me. When the silence or the uneventfulness get me, I call one of my friends up. I usually don't blame them (and when I do, I remind myself not to) when they are rather reluctant to pick up my calls, for I am the only one among us whose classes were put on halt, and their courses and projects still chase behind them no matter what. The first Friday I was back, the girls were celebrating Melody's birthday at Angela's place, which is not thirty minutes of walking distance from here. Still, constrained by the quarantine conditions, I could only make a video call over, taking as little part as possible in the event. I tried to talk to them, but the girls were already having their attention on the video games, and they literally told me to shut up when they were playing; but hey, I was the one who couldn't be there, right?
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| They were playing and I was trying to look intrigued when I really could fully understand what was going on. |
Aside from that, it felt way better thinking about the times when Amy and I talked for over an hour after her part time, when Cathy and I brainstormed for her assignment I mentioned last week, when Melody and I talked about nonsense for an indefinite amount of time, etc. They were there for me more than one can imagine.
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| One of the fancier self-made meal. |
A Summer Affair: Call Me by Your Name
Funny story and funny reasoning of how I got this book in Germany. When the movie adaption of this book came out, recommendations of Call Me by Your Name by Andrew Aciman was everywhere. The piles of the books were set in the most obvious places in multiple bookstores. I had never really wanted to get this book, probably because it was really "Everywhere", and maybe all this time, I have been trying to avoid having everything mainstream, from the spectrum of music, books, and not to mention clothing - I don't even know if it's a conscious decision.
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| Me when reading |
No, the sole reason I got this book in the first place was not because there was a one-line appraisal on the New York Times or media of the sort, but because there was a sequel to it, and I am so very curious about how the story of a summer affair between two men can follow up in the second book. To do that, I would need the first one, and there I was.
The story was about how Elio, our protagonist in a small town in Italy had his own sexual awakening through the acquaintance of an American guy who was staying with them for the whole summer. The boy, with the unquenchable longing for the newcomer, Oliver, growing day by day, he felt how his control over his emotions began to slip between his fingers over to the other person's. He disliked that about himself at some points, or way too buoy in the head to care in some other times, when Oliver did something with the barest attempt to express friendliness.
Not long after finishing with the book, I came across an online figure commenting on the movie adaption of this book, saying that "There is no way you can relate to the character (Elio) and not be gay". I am not absolutely sure about this statement, but at least I was inclined (for multiple times at that) to put down the book when I was overwhelmed by how the emotion shifts of Elio resembled that of mine at some point when I have a crush on someone.
There was one page illustrating the doubt Elio cast on himself, saying how Oliver only make connections with him when he's in the mood; "I knew I had nothing to hold on him, nothing to offer, nothing to lure him by,"; "Just making conversations. Casual chitchat. Nothing." This was one of the depictions of emotion I would say is less... gay-patented. But somehow this resonated with me in volumes. I'll try to make this entry not all about me, so let's skip the self-reflection now.
The poetry flow with the word usage of the author drew out how unhealthy it can potentially be, to fall for a heterosexual guy, with the full knowledge that the two of you would, way more often than not, be unable of reciprocation no matter how deep your friendship may grow. It is a brick wall that is frustratingly solid.
Elio was luckier, I guess, as it turned out that Oliver happened to desire for him as well, easily overlooking the 12 year age gap and staring into the wise mind of Elio. But it was also how much they clicked and clasped together that made the parting heart wrenching. They spent some last minutes together on a trip, which was a form of bittersweet closure. Oh don't I wish for something that is in some way like this!
I never think that we are in charge of whom we fall in love with, and falling out of it wistfully and consciously is an urban legend to me. As mentioned, falling in love with straight guys is not different to have you head banged against a brick wall, but I don't think I am going to hold myself from doing so, for the speed you have picked up in that 0.1 second before your bare forehead makes contact with the dusty red structure is enough thrill to keep you living.
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| "Call me by your name, and I will call you by mine." |
End
I might have poured out more about myself in the previous passage than I intended to, but I really couldn't care less. I feel as if having them down in words is not going to expose my weakness, but being one step closer to help me see what I really am seeing when staring into the mirror.
I hope quarantine ends earlier.
Sincerely,
Hugo
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