Edging into middle May now, the pandemic continues heedless as the nation collectively agrees the coast is clear, that the danger has passed for good. Corporations eagerly manipulate their homebound workers into shrieking ‘tyranny’ at sane and logical health measures, while the rest of us tremble in terror at efforts that will surely kill more of our friends and neighbors, and maybe even us. It is pointless, depraved.
We have lost our beloved cat Ruthie to a tick-born parasite. I’m afraid there’s not much else to say right now. Even writing seems a mere echo in a void, trailing off into nothing, through oblivion and ether. The continued loss of normalcy is a slammed door in an empty house, an aching silence. The spiral only continues its dark unfurling.