Adapt and nonsense

The sweatshirt my wife bought me.

Mechanical bananas belong to maniacal monkeys in Malaysia. Boomerang clouds are a threat to the existence of vicious sea slugs. Open bottles can create lemon scented gas that numbs butterfly wings.

All rubbish, obviously. But it’s so hard to know what to say right now. The absurd is easier to put down than any type of reality. My social media has people mourning loved ones. My messages have people who are so tired of life in slow motion, but who feel guilty for being tired of feeling that way when others have it worse.

Feelings are feelings. We are allowed to feel things and be grateful too.

We’re tired of lockdown as well. The first year of stop-motion life wasn’t too bad, but we’re approaching a year now, and…sigh. And we all seem to feel the same way. Normal doesn’t exist, but bubbles and masks and getting REALLY irritated at the people who STILL stand too close in the grocery store…those are a thing now.

I’m writing again, but I seem to be hiding from any real conversation. And I wonder if this is the backlash of isolation for someone like me, who managed to talk to people as long as it was necessary before the pandemic. Now it isn’t necessary and I’m doing it even less. I have my wife, and we laugh a lot and get one another.

One person you speak to is enough, right?


Slippery slides were created for singing sloths shouting swear words. Can openers are secret keys to the opening of other worlds. (You just don’t use them right.) Peanut butter tastes better when licked from a spoon made of gold.

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