You’ve heard them, right? “Yeah, I got it, but it was symptomless.”

 

Symptomless.

 

Fuck these people. Who are they? In what utopia without illness do they exist? And

moreover, can we find and probe them with a range of unpleasant medical utensils?

 

I want to see why they didn’t even notice diseases that killed people, and in my case more

importantly, made me roll around in bed for three days in mild discomfort. I want scientists to carve them up and then come to some conclusions and then let me know what they are, that I may be angry and resentful. I want a team of people in lab coats to make me a serum I can drink greedily out of a beaker; then I will scream at the heavens, “I am a god now! Fear me for I will be symptomless! Strike me down and I’ll barely realize!”

 

“Ooh, I did test positive, but I didn’t even know I had it!”

 

“I wouldn’t have even known I had it if the kids hadn’t all tested positive!”

 

It makes my blood boil to hear obvious humblebrags like that. To compound it, these

symptomless bastards wouldn’t notice their blood boiling, and then they would brag about not

noticing at a later date.

 

Congratulations on your unearned achievements, symptom-free heroes. Your immune

systems are sooooo great! It’s another reason to feel superior isn’t it? Little Jemima plays cello like a prodigy, Stephen’s concluding the big shipping deal, we’re getting a BMW X5, and I didn’t have any inkling that I had the illness that the whole world was shut down for. Bodies were piling high but I was putzing around as normal, doing some window shopping and getting facials.

 

Fuck you!

 

I wonder if they don’t notice their orgasms either. Or if they’re having a cardiac arrest it feels

like they need to sneeze. “The house is on fire, Jason! You’re on fire a bit too – yes, look, the hair and one of your arms. What’s that, you can’t feel a thing? Incredible!”

 

Cut them up. Pay them if necessary, for the inconvenience, but not too much. They surely

won’t notice the scalpels digging into their flesh and they might not hear the flump sound of their

organs being dropped into a dish at the side of the bed—to be weighed, investigated, scraped a bit, analyzed, and ok, replaced if they’ve been good. I want to know why they were symptomless, and I want to know if I can have the same thing if we drain some special fluid from them, and I drink it.

 

It’s not just that I’m a very angry person with a lot of awful, awful thoughts of revenge. No. I

suggest this for the good of all people. It’s socialism of the immune system. So that one day, we can all say that we didn’t notice. Because we had to suffer illness, let them suffer a little light bodily violation.

 

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