This morning, suddenly, it all began to feel real, that today is the moment that the world has changed, that this is the day that defines the rest of the lives of my generation. I had viewed the plummetting of my meagre investments a few days ago with equanimity, as they feel imaginary anyway, and coronavirus is something quite nebulous anyway, it’s hard to gauge what the impacts might be, especially since it is not terrifying in the way ebola is terrifying. Then this morning Trump banned travel to/from Europe, and it felt like this is the moment that marks the end of this fucking world, and there is no way back to what was once normal.
It’s a curious thing, a global crisis. Not fully global yet, perhaps, only three continents, certainly not on the scale of the climate crisis. It feels peculiarly claustrophobic. Unlike war, even world war, there is nothing outside this crisis, barring aliens. All that we know is within it.
A few days ago I was worrying about how easily and thoroughly surveillance, travel bans, restrictions on daily life, even on handshakes, are put in place, and worrying that once these are done so readily, they will be normalised. That worry is still there, along with a fear that this is it, this is the beginning of the end of this fucking world, separate even from climate crisis.