I feel trapped.
Like a child, grounded by Mum and Dad, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I think.
Yoga, meditation, Duolingo.
U.K: 451 deaths per 1m of the population. USA: 230 deaths per 1m of the population
CI Gov 2 new positive cases. 74 negatives. Total 80 cases. Governor reminds us to prepare for borders to remain closed for at least 4 months.
Today’s bike ride ends with an uplifting soundtrack. Music really energizes me, and I am increasingly aware of how much I need it right now. I tend to cycle holding my iPhone as if it were my first Walkman, the one with the broken cassette cover, that wasn’t actually a Sony, but a cheap knock-off my parents bought in the Bangkok markets. A song comes on, as I am peddling down the home stretch, prompting me to sing along “I’ll be riding shot gun, underneath the hot sun, feeling like I’m someone..” It’s not a song I’d ever given a second thought to before now, (albeit I have danced to this at a friend’s wedding, with her perky antipodean mates, who sang along word-for-word) but in today’s climate this song represents liberty and free movement. Yellow is the sun, green is the vegetation; the singer, George Ezra, is being driven around in an open topped car; riding shot gun. For a moment on this bike ride I feel alive. Free. As if anything is possible. I throw my legs out wide from the pedals, to form an upside-down Y, and almost feel like a child again.
