i spend enough of my days feeling numb that i simply don't have pretty words to spend.
yes it's the pandemic
but i didn't have enough pretty words recently to do more than write something tiny
i want to paint with words but with me the feelings happen and then the words happen.
no feelings? no words.
numb feels safer right now.
i feel helpless. i feel angry. i worry about catching coronavirus but i worry more about this future i assumed i knew the shape of and now it's this blank desert sand, blown by the wind into ripples and dunes, nothing permanent.
i've been ostriching pretty hard in my house for months. well before the shelter in place
numb means i don't abuse myself about how i should be doing more, though I *think* I've broken myself of that habit?
=-/
*exhallllllllle*
our girl![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wrenb brought us masks. I'm so glad for her and her quiet competence, love and support. I finally test-ran a mask i made today on a walk with Spouse who used to be Eeyore42... and my fabric is too dense to manage even light exertion. the flannel's gotta go, which means unpicking 17 or 18 mask blanks, dammit. but i could run up 10 or so fresh ones once i pick out and tear up new lining material. And i could put the ones that need seam ripped in the living room with the seam ripper and just grab that as a project the next time i sit on the couch.
*huffs* and suddenly i have a plan. clearly i need to write here more and stop lying about the house reading quite so much facebook. Make shit feel better. write words feel better.
okay then.
yes it's the pandemic
but i didn't have enough pretty words recently to do more than write something tiny
i want to paint with words but with me the feelings happen and then the words happen.
no feelings? no words.
numb feels safer right now.
i feel helpless. i feel angry. i worry about catching coronavirus but i worry more about this future i assumed i knew the shape of and now it's this blank desert sand, blown by the wind into ripples and dunes, nothing permanent.
i've been ostriching pretty hard in my house for months. well before the shelter in place
numb means i don't abuse myself about how i should be doing more, though I *think* I've broken myself of that habit?
=-/
*exhallllllllle*
our girl
wrenb brought us masks. I'm so glad for her and her quiet competence, love and support. I finally test-ran a mask i made today on a walk with Spouse who used to be Eeyore42... and my fabric is too dense to manage even light exertion. the flannel's gotta go, which means unpicking 17 or 18 mask blanks, dammit. but i could run up 10 or so fresh ones once i pick out and tear up new lining material. And i could put the ones that need seam ripped in the living room with the seam ripper and just grab that as a project the next time i sit on the couch.*huffs* and suddenly i have a plan. clearly i need to write here more and stop lying about the house reading quite so much facebook. Make shit feel better. write words feel better.
okay then.
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