04.16.20 | 207 pm

meet me there in the blue, where words are not and feeling remains


Lockdown does funny things to people. Everything is intensified. Magnified. But also far more ephemeral. Hyperreal and surreal simultaneously.

Big changes are underway. In some ways I feel powerless against their inevitability, amplified by the conditions of lockdown. At the same time, I'm faltering in my resolve.

What even is worth it anymore?

I worry I'm retreating too often from the material world, throwing myself too ambitiously into the psychic/immaterial/abstract. I worry that my feelings are motivated by escapism. I'm more worried that they're not.

Two weeks ago, someone put a letterbox on a fence post near the railway line, into which people were invited to place Letters to an Alternate Reality. Today, it's asking for Letters for Letting Go. I'm not ready to let go, yet.

I've been struggling to put words to paper to figure out these feelings. Something about learning the definition of bittersweet. About how painful it is to long for and miss something you never even experienced in the first place. Something about the absolute and despairing hopelessness that lies just beneath the excitement.