I am definitely my own worst enemy. I feel increasingly angered by the current situation, not so much because it’s happening but more so because there is absolutely no escape from it.
And by ‘it’ I am not talking about the virus itself but the communications flowing forth because of it.
Of course, I bemoan the tsunami of news items, social media posts, new guidelines, government U-turns, discussions and jokes all about Covid that threaten to drown and overwhelm us on a daily basis. Yet I spend hours on social media in pointless discussions with people whose views on the outbreak I will not alter. It’s unlikely they will change mine. I check the news not once but at least ten times a day. I spend my walk to work browsing facts about the virus, other countries’ approaches to dealing with it, checking facts quoted by the believers and the naysayers.
It’s like some twisted addiction that I feel powerless to break free from. The sad fact of the matter is that, even when I partake in activities to divert my mind and my energies away from this depressing state of reality, more often than not I have to consider the virus and its effects upon how I go about these pursuits before I can even start. Which brings me back to square one.
I sat down this evening and started thinking about what I would like to write about and I was totally stumped . Quite frankly, at the moment, what else is there? I am thoroughly wearied by it. It’s like I’m suffocating in a dirty, festering blanket of Covid information, disinformation, guidelines, opinions and whatever else. I am sick and tired of it and I apologise to all for adding another square to the already cumbersome blanket through the writing of this post.
Poetry for Dullards 