Covid once again. Round two. Going to see if I get through this. Hoping for the best of course, but I’m unsure. It’s getting worse but I’m taking it a day at a time. Best I can do, really.

The sky is an interesting colour and I can see it but I want to not talk about the sky.

I don’t know what I want to talk about, but I know that I want to talk.

Soon I will be interviewing a musician and it might be a struggle as I’m slowly getting worse. Slowly feeling Covid more. It’s taking longer to fully hit this time around and I’m hoping that it stops and I’m fine tomorrow, or in a few days, but I’ll just have to see. I’ll have to see how well I’ll feel in a few days. I’ll have to see how well I’ll feel tomorrow. Difficult to tell at the moment, really.

I’ll just keep on trying to go on and get on with things, and I’ll try and rest where I can. Need to take it easy, need to power on, need to power on into rest. Need to just keep going with life and do what I need to do. Need to keep on writing too.

Sometimes I wonder if we will succeed and get on top of things, and maybe right now I’m feeling a little more existential than usual. I don’t know if I am, but maybe I am. I probably am.

So anyway, rest and all that, and remembering to breathe, and wondering if I’m struggling to breathe at any point or if I’m just paranoid. Probably paranoid. Probably freaking myself out a little too much. Such is the way of things. Such is life. Such is how it will continue until I get better.

Cicadas can be heard and that’s a nice thing. I like the sound of cicadas. I like it much more than the heat that usually comes with it. Maybe today is a good day. Maybe this evening is pleasant, and maybe things will go on. Maybe I’ll feel better in the morning, but if not I’ll have to roll with it. I’ll just have to keep going as there is much to do and I’ve little say in the matter.

Tomorrow is a new day but today is still going and it is here where I currently sit. Right now is where I exist and right here is a nice place to be, but tomorrow will also be nice. Tomorrow will bring new possibility, but there still is possibility today.

I don’t know what I’m going on about at this point, but I think I’m getting something across. Maybe it is bland and light and not worth the time, but it still is something and so perhaps I can consider that some sort of victory.

Maybe the mark we leave is small, and seemingly inconsequential, and maybe that’s the way it should be, and that’s okay.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:57:40

Not my best writing but that’s okay. Feels a bit hesitant in a way and I’m not sure why. Oh well.

Written at home.