Poof

These days, my phone is filled with pictures of only what we cook/eat, my plants, the same view from my window/balcony.

Finally, today, I just want to go out.

It’s day 40 and like everyone else, I’ve only been as far as the neighbourhood vegetable vendor and supermarket a handful of times. I haven’t missed the outdoors this desperately, until now.

I’d like to do something other than cook, clean, watch TV, practice solitude.

I’d like to see some human beings other than VC, Niyu and my vegetable vendor. Much as I am so thankful for not being all alone, I’m ready for some life.

I’d like to see some views other than the one outside my window.

Today, I’m really feeling constricted. There’s low hanging, horribly muggy summer rain clouds that are doing nothing more than hanging around. The air is hot and thick, impenetrable, sultry. Some rain would give respite, but the clouds just won’t part.

It’s making staying indoors really stuffy today. But I know that’s just the external. Internally too, I’m longing for a change of scene. Even if just for a bit. A drive? A walk?

While I’ve had good days and bad that have flowed from one to the next, I have mostly been able to get by and get on. Today, I’m finally feeling the suffocation of it all. And I’m feeling all kinds of gloomy will-this-ever-lift thoughts. The lack of information around whatever the fuck is going on, where we stand, is not helping me.

I’m longing for a nice long run in the park.
I’d love a beach day, from last summer.
My dreams alternate between meeting S to consume cold, stiff cocktails in restaurants I currently cannot go to, and my loved solitary escape to consume brownies slowly, greedily at Third Wave.
I long to get a haircut.

I miss it all so, so, so very much. And it’s all a bit surreal to be dreaming about such “basic” things. I know, to dream is also a privilege at this point.

Feeling defeated and deflated today, to think that I’m living in a time when all of this is currently a question of “if and when” and not “sometime soon”.

Who knows how long it’ll be?

Sigh.

One year ago: Plant babies
Two years ago: You know it used to be mad love

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