Under my Blanket.

Walking aimlessly in the heat, time to kill before work.

Something is in the air again, something so isolating and eerie. Something that makes it so nobody answers FaceTime. Like walking through a desert.

I’m not sure I would feel safe even if I hid under my blankets. It feels as though I need to be under the open sky where everyone can see me. I can’t tell if the tension is unfolding around me or inside me. I can’t tell if it’s because I didn’t sleep well, or if I would have felt this way regardless.

I’m not sure if there are proper words to say to reverse this, I’m not sure if the language I speak has the power to transform a room today. Conversations have been electrified and busy and humiliating. I’m not sure if I can muster humour or humility today. I feel as though my words are tired, directionless, overheated, overused. I feel a blockage so physical between myself and everyone. I’m not sure what I’m waiting for but I can feel it getting closer. The more I anticipate it the more distant I become, I am not here with myself, I am not here with anyone.