Plastic Pots

This pandemic has turned our heads upside down and our bodies inside out. From leaving others homeless to others being left hopeless. It has made sure to give us a run for our money, in this world of uncertainty it has iced this disaster cake with grief and suffering.
I hadn’t been in any classroom setting for 6 months. I was sweating I am anxious credibly fearing the unknown, I can say I was faithless if there is a word. The girl that was sitting in front of me had small little hand notes and looked so organized yet I was there another hopeless student unaware of what was going on. I was panicking I knew absolutely nothing; I was going in blind. I had never understood anything from last semester and till now I still don’t get it. I was thinking about the hours I would spend in front of my laptop taking notes and reading things out loud, actually looking at those things now they look like they were written in thirty minutes.

I was panicking and coming back to earth and the I realized that there is no way out its either you give up and drown instantly or you keep treading water until your knees give in and you drown. Is there any way out of this system a mentally enslaving system that prey on flickers of hope yet feeding into uncertainties? We are all may believe philosophers pushed to dream and think but there is no place to place this belief. We are indoctrinated to surrender before we have begun because the system gives you no room for hope or belief. You push it pulls it’s against your being, but well what do I have to say to believe that I live a dying lie a bad aftermath of borrowed ideology that regulates the lives we claim to be ours.
Still, governed by old beliefs and doctrines how do we evolve when we still run on steam engines when the whole world has gone electronic? What is the whole point of living isn’t it to adapt to the radical change that occurs globally. I am in a pandemic and I have to adapt to the system that will suit the situation but how do I suit a situation one has never countered. We were not ready and we didn’t know what to do to seem ready. I overthink yes but without overthinking there wouldn’t have been these phenomenal breakthroughs, like the guy with the light bulb he probably got sick of staying in the dark and thought a bit more than the normal man because if he did everyone would have come up with that idea. So I will overthink this situation as an unfair obstacle that is like a relative maze.
Why then settle really?
Are we ok, they won’t give us a break until we are broken and still we will be exploited by the society that made us.
It all starts at a young age, you are taught to write your name before you are told why or what it is. I always wanted to ask my mother why did you give me this name. I was bullied for three years because of it and I felt like I deserved because I had such a name I didn’t know what it meant, where it came from and how it came to be. I didn’t have the basic foundation of owning it and knowing it. In living you never ask the difficult questions the why’s, who’s and what’s. Yet these are the things that add the unwanted explosion at the end of the road because our equation lacked the need for the reason of wanting to know why? Programmed and disposed of now we running on outdated software can we trying and look for a loop that can accommodate incapacity and incompetence.
I once passed through Mbare I had been to Mbare but never really been there. I was greeted by the insinuative mantra that robbed the place of any kind of peace. I recall clinching on my purse, I don’t know what made me feel unsafe I kept looking behind my shoulder trying to look composed or blend in.
That was when I knew that everyone is capable of some stereotypical mentality. I looked past their poverty and backstories and in my head, I saw danger I was afraid of those that didn’t have any physical weapon except their plight.
I still question myself and ask how I could overlook the burst sewers and the desperation in those Mbare valets, “Dollar zvero mhamha (only a dollar ma’am)” is what one said and I froze because this was his job, it was terrifying. I stayed there still and watched as a military car passed by and the soldiers screaming go back to your homes. I watched all the hawkers yanked their belongings and hideaway in the corners.
I stopped myself to check my privileges as I drown in this hellish paradise. I noticed how all had gone to waste the paintings on the Mbare flats had begun to fade away the smiling faces along with it.
The disease came with pain it washed away all the hope one had and also created hope for others. It made us feel like trapped rats in this atomic bomb self-made I like to thing. We are suffocating in our breaths choking each other with every draw and wasting away without a sound. This might as well be the human ending as we are just like plastic pots in this pandemic.