Today, I think, it's a bit like a Friday. It's not very different from my normal life. It's a bit like working from home during the school holidays. Actually, it's just like that. Joe's home, cooking. Lily made a sponge cake. The kids are home being a bit bored but mostly content. I'm less focused than usual but as usual perched on a chair at the end of the house trying to bring order to the chaos of online information. As usual getting bogged down by anomalies and arrangement and things that don't quite fit, until I hold the shape up to the light and things slip into place and are calmer. As usual trying to make things make sense. I don't go out all that much anyway My quiet village is a bit quieter. I am walking more. I am showering more. I am sleeping less. I am still chatting to my friends online. Today I know there's a storm out there, but it's not mine, not yet.
I remember when I was playing Prospero in a small production of the Tempest, and writing about it, I realised that everything the audience and Ariel knows is reported. Prospero could have made the whole thing up. Him being powerful back home in Milan, him being betrayed, him releasing Ariel. He gets to tell the story and so we experience that truth. I wonder if that's why some of the Coronacranks are so skeptical. I see their mutterings online as well. use your brains they say, think about it. Who's telling us? Why? What are they protecting? Where's the proof? It's caused by 5G, it's just the common cold, it'll disappear in spring. It's hysteria. You can't see a virus, you see. It's just a story told to us, a nefarious government's fairy tale. I can imagine it though, the spiky virus we see pictures of everywhere now, tumbling, yes like tumbleweed, down the empty streets.
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