Covid Day Eight. The bastard virus will not go away. Latest test shows I'm still Covid positive.
Rysiek's died. Illness reigns. Family unwell. Half the office unwell. Darkness reigns - the darkest day. Solstice is at 04:28 (CET) tomorrow morning, when the sun is at its lowest declination here in the Northern Hemisphere. I've not seen sunlight for two and half weeks. Can't focus; can't hold a hopeful thought. War going Putin's way. Poland in disarray. The West in disarray. Trump in the White House next January? Nothing is going right. No inspiration, no ideas, nothing to bring joy or succour.
Gloom outside, a leaden sky from which falls rain, and it will be dark by half past three anyway. Not left the house for eight days. I need a walk.
I'm not one for feeling sorry for myself - self-pity is an ugly trait, but I must be honest and say that I'm at my lowest ebb physiologically and psychologically for years.
The Wheel of Fortune turns inexorably; the spiral is upward. Everything might look and feel shit right now, but life has taught me that cycles have an inevitability. It may not feel that way, but though today's shit, tomorrow will be better. Such is life.
This time last year:
Last good day of 2022
The Year of the Phenomenon
This time four years ago:
Sentimental stroll - streets of my childhood
This time five years agor
Streets of my childhood
[I did the same walk exactly a year earlier]
This time six years ago:
Jeziorki - swans and bonus shots
This time eight years ago:
A conspiracy to celebrate
This time nine years ago:
The Mythos and the Logos in Russia
This time ten years ago:
Going mobile - my first smartphone
This time 11 years ago:
The world was meant to end today
[It may not have ended, but it was a tipping point in history.]
This time 12 years ago:
First snow - but proper snow?
The time 13 years ago:
Dense, wet, rush hour snow
This time 14 years ago:
Evening photography, Powiśle
This time 15 years ago:
The shortest day of the year
This time 16 years ago:
Bye bye borders - Poland joins Schengen
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3 comments:
It may not be much help, but whenever I feel down, I think of what our parents' generation went through. For them there must have been a point when they thought that totalitarianism would inevitably take over the world, but they still fought on. And even after Yalta, they still kept the faith.
Having said all that, a little bit of sunshine does help, I must admit. (Which is why I love bella Italia).
3-Maj sie.
MK
ONE of the reasons I love Italy, I should have said (apart from so many other reasons too many to list, probably). Signing out for the holidays and hoping you get well soon. Cheers. MK
Your words in the latest posts have been edging ever so close to my experience that I feel pressure building up in my head to respond where I have confined myself so far to tensing up my face and neck muscles and swallowing my tears. Like you I have covid and I have spent a few days recently on cancer wards feeling acute pain for a beloved person’s suffering. I’ll be spending more time there after Christmas. The staff are very nice and solicitous. The ward is immaculate, with total and complete absence of distracting notices and information on the walls, the lights are dimmed. The only thing hanging on one of the walls is a reproduction of the Black Madonna. Nothing else, but you can’t miss that. In just a few days you learn that we are playing a game of life with half a deck only. As it is Christmas Eve tomorrow, the one line I always heard said by my parents at the Wigilia table and remember most today is “May we live to break bread in a year’s time.”
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