My mind is empty. I am empty. I have nothing to say, nothing to write. Blank. I keep on hoping maybe there is something, maybe if I dig deeper, look closer. But there is nothing.
How can it even be true? Do I really have no opinion on anything, nothing new or remotely interesting to tell the world? Thats what it seems like.
We are isolated.
Or that is what we should be.
Avoiding the news as much as I can, not owning a TV or ever buying a newspaper, I still see it everywhere. There really doesn’t seem to be a way to avoid them.
This many people got infected. This many people have died. This is how quickly it spreads. This is how much it will damage our economy. This is how bad everything is, so really, really, don’t leave the house.
And yet here I am, still wondering if it is even true. It could still not be true. I still don’t know anyone who got sick (Thanks God?). I don’t know anyone who knows anyone who got sick ( spitting three times over my left shoulder).
So here I am, going to the supermarket. Just washing my hands more often and having a valid reason to avoid any contact with people.
I still get coffee, but now it is only to go and I can’t go to the movies.
When you finally felt the will to live the life and got yourself together to go out and maybe even socialise more and maybe, just maybe, even make new friends, you are thrown back like by an ocean wave. So you sit there, with salt in your mouth and sand in your underwear and feel stupid.
I should have not tried.