This is the fifth instalment of LOVE AND WAGE LABOUR IN THE AGE OF CAPITALIST PANDEMIC. These instalments are journal entries entitled with only their date. I wanted to try to document this time, the time of COVID-19. It struck me that I was having conversations with people who were all having unique experiences of this pandemic, and that most of these conversations, like all memories, would fall away. I wanted to document it. These are my experiences only. I hope you find something in them. – Madeleine
Tonight I feel like saying a prayer.
I am not the praying kind.
Always balked at looking up and talking
to above, asking for something
or passing on words
to the sky.
Tonight I want to fix it.
I want to find everyone I ever wronged
And kiss them and tell them I’m so sorry
I want to pray for the wives with their heads smashed in
by violent husbands in quarantine
I want to comfort the child who cries
in the next room
I want to encircle my life and
find the wrong parts do them again better,
And send a prayer up for somewhere; for
something; and have it heard.
I don’t believe in God.
I think that crisis is a vehicle for wishing –
For carrying wishes into the next realm with us –
Crises bind our souls together
Or maybe they don’t and maybe people just die and richer people just don’t die
But crises ask us to try and make something right, just anything, right, again, just for a moment
And perhaps that’s all praying is.