what feeling? fraught, overwrought. doom. this began before. when? nothing is real now. time is pandemic, fraught anyway, and we were, i was, fraught before. what hope now. no hope in retreat. how to continue when nothing feels real. now everything has converged without will or comprehension in pandemic reality. is this us? how to behave in this reality when and where nothing feels real. when i was a kid dudley dooright was on tv. he looked like a dumb mounted animated version of kirk douglas. dad called me by his name, ironically i assume now, i didn't know then what irony is. perhaps i still don't. i often don't. but i think he meant i was an earnest bungler, a sweet hapless no-account, and he was an achiever, saying this, or it was just a joke, innocent, though i never felt that about him, sadly, i never felt his innocence, even when i looked at him smiling on the beach with baby fat and a ball tucked under his arm. sad that maybe he had it then but i could only see him through the present, my present, and what was his? sad that i never understood or knew him. sad that that may be what afflicts me now, when it doesn't matter with him gone, when it's here with everything and everyone else i fail to understand hence myself. how like that how suddenly it didn't matter anymore and as one therapist said you'll never understand with him, between you, you'll be doing this when he's gone. and how suddenly moment to moment i feel gone too.
anyway at the moment and i know it's a moment, emotional, i feel hopelesss, for myself and humanity, though at the same time i know that's grandiose and everything will just go on until the end.