Contagious, Cantankerous and Cold

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I have had Covid for the past two weeks and it is well and truly kicking my arse. When a family member brought it home from work I was so careful not to get anywhere near them. I took precautions as far as moving into the caravan to avoid contact. Within a couple of days the damn ‘rona got me though and so I have spent the last fortnight coughing, blowing copious amounts of yellow/brown gloop out of my nose and feeling generally crap. I’m permanently exhausted and keep feeling like I’ve been sitting in a freezer.

Not content with just resting in my bed and hoping my immune system will get its act together; I have realised that even when I’m resting, I have to be doing something. Arts or crafts or reading books and even attempting to make treat toys for my rabbits.

This past two weeks have been so awful and I have been in such a horrible mood that I’m surprised my sister hasn’t shoved me in a supermarket trolly and wheeled me to the nearest lake.

So as I approach week three, here’s hoping for a negative covid test, better homeostasis and no more gluey crap slugging out of my poor raw nose.

Fingers crossed peeps! 🤞🏽

I do apologise…

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Well once again I have left it for quite a while between posts. I do apologise and warn that this will happen a lot. I am a very forgetful person and have no self discipline when it comes to things like this.

I recently downloaded an app to remind me to take my medication. So far I’ve managed to fill the obnoxious green dots most days; but if you forget to take one it gives you an angry red cross on the calendar as if you’re a naughty school child. This has partly fuelled the fire and I sometimes deliberately don’t tick off which medication I’ve had just to surprise it the next day when I go back to the log and let it know that I did take the medication and it made a fuss over nothing.

No, I don’t think lockdown has effected me in any way… why do you ask?

Little Notes In Library Books XVIII

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I gave you everything

You said it’s wasn’t enough

You gave me tough love

Told me to suck it up

You never wanted me

But you won’t let me free

I live inside the cage within your eyes

Keep me far but in your sight

Only talk to me at night

When the dark things tell you

all the bad things you’ve done.

Skin never touches

Lips don’t collide

Minds locked in torture

I don’t even mind

We created a paradise in black and white

You used it for yourself

Indulging in your neurotic self-concise

needy over analytical thinking all while

making me soothe your pain and then

It’s way too easy for you

I make it easy for you

To put it down and pick it up

whenever you need a boost

I’m waiting here for you

Skin never touches

Lips don’t collide

Minds locked in torture

I don’t even mind

And it’s hard to say

Goodbye my dear

And hard to say

This ain’t love my dear

I can’t walk away

Coz you never

Make it clear

That you won’t ever

Care about me my dear

The post I didn’t post until now

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It’s been a while since I posted. Feels like I only really post on here when I’m at a loss of what to do. I guess this is the only place I can properly vent this stuff. I really miss my friend that I had known since my first year of high school. I’ve missed her since she stopped talking to me. Every day I’ll think of something that I’d like to tell her or something funny happens and I automatically want to share it with her. I’m not even sure what I did to end our long friendship, I took on all the problems mounted up by my sister and in fixing her mess I lost a friend. I feel worse because I know that my sister did nothing to try to help my situation. I fixed her mess and she didn’t once attempt to explain to my friend how I was doing what I did to get her out of a jam. She just didn’t even try.

Little Notes In Library Books XVI

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Windows are the eyes to the souls that pass by.

The small cafe, a platform of observation for the everyday voyeur to the hustle and bustle of city life.

Harsh winds and icy rain marr the faces of the concrete jungle natives. To long ago they bought into the cosmopolitan life and now pay the price.

The watcher chuckles at the futility of it all. The city will not remember their years of service. It will merely consume the next schmuck that dreams of the big city.

The cafe is warm and aromatic. A single shop, the last of its kind among the chains and franchises. None too trendy but perfect for watching the world go by.

The lovers hold hands and sip hot chocolate in matching grey coats. Muffled voices over the hiss of the milk frother.

Observing their happiness, the watcher smiles and returns to the window. Fast pace no time to waste go getting in the rat race.

Business and tourism combine to make a buzzing humming constant  drumming that drives the gentle insane.

The watcher by the window takes out book and pen. No wires and flash; just paper, ink and the eyes that see and hands that write the observations through the window.

Little Notes in Library Books XV

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Pins and needles

The smallest prick of the skin

Sharp and direct

No one can see them so are they there?

Jab and withdraw

Some have it to an art

Precise and sly

More damaging than the fist

A remark, a retort

Chipping away at ones sanity

.

.

.

A tiger, a bear

Sick of the torment, the jabs the spikes

They know what it’s like

A reaction a defence

But it is them who take the blame

The horrified stares

The shaking heads

The judgement

And the label

.

.

.

Monster

Is it right?