Thursday, April 2, 2020
Is it the corona virus, or is it me? My blog is dying on the vine. I'm sure it is me. My writing, my lack of photos. I don't know. People have other concerns right now. I shouldn't worry or complain, let alone resent. I'm supposed to be writing this for me, anyway. But fuck-it is like losing a beauty contest.
I guess. How would I know that?
These are hard times for those of us with wanderlust. My retirement was to be a fulfillment of that. Rather, I am in severe isolation with no hope of recovery. I was to go to China, Thailand, Japan, all on someone else's dime. My buddy and his wife have signed on to a safari in Tanzania along with my neighbor and his wife. It is a summer trip. It would be hugely expensive for me, but I have thought about signing up and tagging along. That, too, seems highly unlikely.
What are we to do?
Read, watch the Trump Show, and take long, solitary walks. Avoid people. Try not to become even more of an alcoholic.
I have just finished dinner and want some company. I want to meet someone who likes me and cuddle. But there is no story there. We need Gabriel Garcia Marquez for that one.
God. . . I would love to go to Peru.
I took my Leica on my walk to the lake this late afternoon. The light here is phenomenal this time of year, but what can I do? I took a couple snapshots of the neighborhood and edited the images on my phone. Not much. Best I can do right now.
Posted by cafe selavy at 8:17 PM