Followers of Perez are looking forward to moving from March Madness to Apollonian April.
Photo by Maria Dhilla
Fueled by Modafinil and four carefully curated Spotify playlists, fourth-year UCSD student Adriana Perez has decided to “honor the annual tradition that celebrates the unceasing, cosmically relentless mundanity of life” by “completely giving in to the forces we dare not understand,” through her participation in March Madness this year. Perez came up with the idea after hearing the words “March Madness” in an advertisement she couldn’t skip while watching YouTube video essays. Perez then “made the decision to not look up any clarifying information on March Madness,” choosing instead to base her interpretation off of the Greek celebration Bacchanalia, for which she bought several bottles of wine in preparation.
“To prepare for March Madness, I’ve decided to lose all track of time and delve deeper into my own fractured madness, one that only grows with every passing lonely night that I remain awake,” said Perez. “Fortunately, with the realization that quarantine has been happening for almost a full year, and the fact that I don’t recognize the floor in my apartment anymore, I’m very well prepared. Next, I will cover all the mirrors in my house and buy 17 succulents to feed on their power.”
Perez’s interpretation of March Madness has gained popularity with her fellow students. “When I looked outside at the balmy 75-degree weather in San Diego, I knew I couldn’t use seasonal depression as an excuse for why I can’t get out of bed in the morning. So, instead of actually facing the issues at hand, going mad seems to be an easier alternative!” said Perez’s friend Gwen Knightly. “This is way better than that one time Adriana thought No Shave November was actually No Shame November. That was when I realized that maybe it was a good thing I was bullied in middle school.”
When asked about her thoughts on the traditional meaning of March Madness, Perez admitted it was “embarrassing” to have completely misunderstood what March Madness was about, but quickly swallowed her shame, saying, “I’ve never been one for football.” When told March Madness was for basketball, Perez cryptically replied, “Under the god of revelry, any degree of competition is interchangeably independent from one petty, mortal constraint to the next. The most profound power which shifts between and beyond the force of life is propagated passion.” Perez then closed her thesaurus app and did not blink for 12 minutes, her face slack.
After some time, Perez continued: “It’s been really hard, what with seasonal depression, and quarantine, and not being able to see my friends, and finals, and worrying about my family, and, well, just the creeping realization that I’ll never truly have any agency in my life because people in power have either irreversibly corrupted the world, or don’t see me as a human being, thereby silencing any concerns I might have in regards to living a life where I’m not constantly stressed about maintaining a healthy lifestyle. Honestly, I’m really more surprised that anybody is doing okay.”
Former Editor-in-Chief. Like an ouroboros, her jokes consume themselves until no one knows whether they were ever funny. But they are.
