LONGING FOR WHAT I HAVE BEEN
A typical day of mine in quarantine, couldn’t be better summed up than this. My sleep schedule now is 4:30am- 12pm. The day starts with checking the phone, time, who texted me, is there any news, where the corona virus spread today and will I get the salary of this month.
Ilustration by: Argjira Kukaj
Desperate of these aspects, I go to the kitchen, I open the window and the served sun for some days now is caressing me, while coffee and a glass of water and lemon were added to my routine. The time has come for the 1pm lecture, without camera or voice, just a professor explaining the topic of today’s class. Meanwhile I was cleaning the room, getting the papers ready, pens and the time lapse video, I wore a simple black t-shirt just like my feelings inside right now and I sat down. After this, I had time for one hundred sketches per day, large-scale work. I listened to quite music and the sunset was noticeable on my videos. The sky, minute after minute would turn into colors full of love, soon, evening would come and with one of my friend we would prepare food, and sometimes I would even skip this process. This is where the mental state changes. During the day, when I would go out of the flat to buy something on the supermarket, I would hear people talking and saying “may we live like this for much longer”. A darkness suffocated my soul and my heart, a pain I don’t know how to get away from. I very much love the evening, cause I’m very productive, but the loneliness sometimes does its doing. I usually go to bed at 11pm, and that’s when it starts, my thoughts all around my head that don’t leave me in peace. I think a lot, about everything and when I can’t do that any longer I leave my bed, I prowl, go and wash my face, I sometimes cry, but without voice. Nobody ever saw me cry while I was concerned about my mental health, or anything else. I sit down, and the bright side of all this is that I worked more than a hundred sketches that represent my mental state, while this isolation is suffocating my soul, heart and mind.
While thinking, I say to myself that there’s no one left in the planet, and the stress starts here, apparently so does depression. Because I have started to avoid conversations with my friends and my family. Seems like this situation, has isolated me inside and the routine of my work and only that, and that nothing makes no sense to act for. I have also started canceling nutrition. I think if this situation will pass, I think about my friends will I have the opportunity to hangout and party with them again, I think about going out at any time of the day when I feel like going out, for the noise and the vitality that this city gives me.
I start thinking of how much I miss every person of this city, and about my friend and our long walks after work, to the academia or our favorite café. During these three weeks I missed my work colleges the most, both of my bosses, even though there were days they have slandered my life, I’m accepting any kind of pressure just to be back there again. Most of the time, I think I miss a hug, without masks and gloves, a kiss with someone you truly love, and an apology to every person that I hurt, with or without intention.
In the open window of my room I step out, and take several deep breaths and get back inside.
And what can I say more than this probably will pass and I lie down again and around the 4:00 or 4:30 in the morning. Sleeps begins to come, and in the melody of the rain drops I fall asleep. And so a day and a night is over, an isolation like this, an absence that grows every day inside me and I fear the other parts of this situation, how will I get through this, or maybe the opportunity to get past them will have a pretty long sequel, which I don’t even want to think about. I want the freedom that I had, I want everything I enjoyed while free. I want to get soaking wet by rain, I want a drink at the square and a smile on the coffee. I want everything to go back in normal, but more than everything I want to get rid of the trouble that has gripped me inside and return to what we have always been.
About the autor: Fjolla Ferati, she’s a student of graphics design in the third year, at the Academy of Arts in Prishtina
