A Day in the Life: Social Distancing with Blindboss

Balance is the key. Fifteen minutes on the phone, fifteen minutes on the piano. Two Netflix episodes, two laps around the neighborhood.

I've found a lot of peace within this strange time. Although I was laid off from my previously awesome employer, I was able to record music and a video from home. Society shuttered its doors, yet I opened my mind, tapped into my creativity and got to work.

As time goes on with the new way of life, for the foreseeable future, the challenge becomes maintaining a balance. Now I'm almost never hungover because for each glass of gasoline, I drink a glass of salt water to flush it out.

When the gyms closed, I was furious; how could I stay healthy? I began learning a yogic, hyper-breathing technique that was more powerful than Timothy Leary's LSD. After all, the body and mind are ever-connected.

They closed the beaches! I dug a moat around my complex and claimed the first Blindboss beach in sunny Orange County, CA. You won't be sunburned at 3 a.m.

The internet wants my soul. I stopped liking posts. I just lurk. They cannot have my fake internet points. They can't know what I'm up to if all I do is watch. Or can they?

Stay away from elderly loved ones! Six feet away. Masks for every occasion. I cut a hole into my mattress so I can wear it as protection as I stay inside, never to resurface. I will not be infecting anyone with a virus, or a smile, or my problems. I will stop sharing myself, too. Just in case.

I watch talking heads ask empty suits who state vapid platitudes how it will all be okay if you just vote for X, say this, wear that, or don't.

Balance is my thoughts versus your thoughts and I'm tired of both. Balance is having something on the tip of your tongue, then biting it when you shove sourdough down your throat. Balance is a 17-year-old illegally with a rifle versus a sex offender with a knife on the floorboard he hadn't grabbed - shots are imminent (another gasoline, please!). Balance is I lost my job, and now I'm depressed so I'll resign ambition and collect unemployment. Balance is spending my unemployment check on Amazon while fighting capitalism from my smartphone. Balance is decrying western slavery while slave-wagers dig up cobalt and lithium in Asia and Africa so my phone can last 16 hours and I always stay connected. Maybe I'm worth it, maybe it's fucking Maybelline. Balance is one breath in, one breath out, as I decide what to do next. If I can do anything about any of it - at all.

Balance is the key. Fifteen minutes talking to my reflection in the mirror. Two days of Twitter and YouTube, simultaneously, telling me who I should be, who I can never be and who "they" are and why they're terrible. Through all of this, at least I've kept my sanity. Is my phone charged yet?

While practicing social distancing, watch my latest music video for "Fake Internet Points":