Making dinner for myself for the first time in days was a simple reminder of life outside the all-consuming crisis.
It was a welcomed sense of normalcy that I didn’t realise how desperately I needed.
Day and night are merging at the moment, and I feel quite disoriented with time. Yet I feel the contradictory pang of wishing I could just stop time for a brief moment.
I know this isn’t a forever story, but it’s definitely overwhelming right now.
There is joy waiting in tomorrow morning, and I am holding on patiently for that.
