Infinity

Infinity focus.  That is working for me.  It places objects in the distance, enforces the isolation of the Covid experience.  The world is there but not near, not intimate.  If you can't focus at infinity, you are too close.

I won't see skies like the one pictured here for awhile.  The storms are coming.  Now Hurricane Isaias is headed our way.  I told my mother yesterday not to worry, that this would not become a hurricane. WTF do I know?  In preparation, much of the state is closing its coronavirus testing stations.  In the southern portion of the state, hardest hit by the virus, there is the worry of moving patients in already over capacity hospitals.  Shit gets real.  I may be sorry I didn't buy a generator this year.  Everything in this country is a mess right now.  In some fantasy, we predicted days like these, but that is all it was supposed to be--science fiction.  We thought the Trump presidency would be a disaster, but not this bad.  He is the beast that slouches toward Bethlehem.  In a matter of years, the country went from being the world's leader to existing as a significant catastrophe.  I worry about Trump being given the nuclear codes every day.  He is the King of Fools.

What happens next?

I used to watch movies like "Sorcerer" from the comfort of my home and desire to go to those jungles and sweat and drink beer in rundown bars full of whores and dangerous criminals.  I mean, for a week or so.  And I did.  But I was always able to come home to my "Leave It to Beaver" American existence and marvel at how clean and efficient everything was, how well things worked, what conveniences there were.

Everything was taken for granted.  Now, the grant is up.  We've depleted the account.  More and more, even on t.v., the world looks grim.

I can't see out my windows this morning.  They are fogged and dripping with moisture.  The sky is gray.  This is not promising.  Disease and disaster are everywhere.

But, I think, I've posted a pretty good picture.