I think, if I'm honest, it's starting to get to me a bit. I'm wondering if I'm at the point where I, speaking for no one else, need a way out of this. I know that normality, going forward, will be something new, but I also feel that, irrespective of its necessity, lockdown needs to be a finite proposition. I have no idea whether that will be the case in the foreseeable, but I'm starting to pack my bags, thinking of heading to the reception desk (that's not a dark metaphor, btw). Room service is nice but I need the real thing.
I get through the day easily enough; a routine has found me and it ins't unpleasant. But there are needs I'm starting to find can't be met locally and the ease with which I used to be able to fulfil them is pressing on my sensibility. I need some new socks for one thing; these old things (wiggles toes) are starting to come apart! Mundane things I could easily buy in town that are now hopelessly out of reach.
It's the collision of two worlds: the overlay of biohazard onto the everyday. The world looks the same, but the invisible has changed. Something isn't quite right. I go through the same fields, to the same shops, much the same as they always were (more or less - social distancing is heavily advertised), but, simultaneously, it's all vitally different.
This is hard to reconcile. Two worlds that really don't belong. I think they try to coalesce at night. I do not sleep well. Dreams are intense and pounding. They feel so real that upon waking I am uncertain as to what is real. It is tiring in its own way. But as the day pours itself over me, and I wake earlier with the early dawn, the travails of the subconscious dissipate. However I suspect they are not forgotten, merely suppressed. That is why I believe, for myself, this cannot continue overlong, though I recognise that it may have to.
It's like the Tories are dunking our collective heads in the toilet. What a pleasant metaphor.
There is no fix for this. On the radio this morning they were talking about how people with schizophrenia were regressing; lockdown's pressures were increasing the voices some were hearing. A house has become a cage, even if it isn't a prison - and calling it such is trite. These pressures will not be easily unwound. What happens afterwards when people need to unwind? Will they be called back to work without a care? Will their benefits be stopped if they do not immediately follow the edicts of work advisers, many of whom will also be stressed?
How far down the rabbit hole can we go? How far can we twist the world? It's the disease that gets under your skin.
On the other hand, safely crack open the soapwashed champagne, we have the highest death toll in Europe. Still there's everything to play for if we want to beat the US' own murder rate. Hip hip, our giverment is shit. Hooray. :(
It's not funny is it.
Class war for today
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