Part Whatever...If You Go Down In The Woods Today, REMAIN INDOORS!

It's eerie in the sunlight. Normally the blue sky is your friend. Now it's just a bit pale, like a rubbish kids drink (the one's your friend used to make who was too stingy with the fucking cordial). The sun in the sky looking down and making you warm and feeling good. The celestial Green Cross Code Man. Now that light has to filter through the invisible threat that's weaving itself around us slowly, but, more importantly, certainly. Fighting through a viral jungle with a shit machete.

I went for a walk. Of course I did. I have to breathe don't I?

There seemed to be more people around, as if it was a weekend or a holiday. It's all about how things seem now; the real world versus the terrifying reality of the news world. But that's probably my perception. Warped as it is. Perhaps it is a holiday. A chance to enjoy the fresh air, while you still can. Fortunately it's possible to get out and be able to avoid people. This may come in handy in the days ahead. Like the book of revelations; a highway code for the apocalyptically fundamental

The dichotomy is weird: the news and social media are an invitation to a nervous breakdown. The worst case scenario is constantly paraded like an endless catwalk of ill fashion. Sickly models are dressed up in lurid possible worlds of increasing terror. Supermodel meets supernature. Worlds all sharing a common threat: the incompetence of an elite with no answer to this crisis. It is a language they cannot speak and could never learn. It would be like trying to teach a dog Latin. Or like Caesar learning to speak dog.

Ave, it barked.

People are still going to the shops. The shops seem to still be functioning, but then they have to be. What on earth will happen otherwise; do we start chasing the sheep with blowpipes and bic razors? Chewing the cud while desperately waiting for blackberry season?

I did see a lady with her kids. Her cargo of probably genuinely necessary toilet roll(s) looked very conspicuous. Perhaps that too is just my perception. There doesn't seem to be any point to panic buying when there's so much uncertainty and who can afford our months' worth? I haven't got a freezer big enough - no, wait, that's for the beef, not for my arse. Oh dear. I'm coming apart at the seams.

I don't think I'll be the only one. I just received an email from a comrade; he's in the high risk group three times over! What a time to be alive, and will there be much time left to be alive? Suddenly a thirst for knowledge is a curse. I could quench it with the mythical waters of Lethe. Or just wait for Starbucks to do it as a latte.

When the doors are shut and the viral air raid sirens in government compel us to our mortgage cocoons, someone should set up a pirate radio network (or social media channel as this isn't the sixties anymore). We could all sit in our antibody bunkers listening to the COVIDEEJAY giving us the lowdown on the best looting hotspots, weather reports including clouds of infection, spinning the latest 'beats' (hopefully your heartbeat). He or she could tell us the latest fashion for evening wear in the lounge, and a quiz show to help us remember what flowers looked like.