Reality Disappointment — Real Life

rw-book-cover

Metadata

My friends in Toronto were experiencing the same psychic irregularity as my friends in New York: random bursts of exhaustion, a desire to connect combined with a weird inability to absorb any good will. What should have been clear to me from the start was that normalcy was always a figment of pandemic imagination. After so much loss and disruption, to feel “normal” would have been much stranger than whatever it was we felt.
My father was watching TV, my mother was reading her iPad and I felt that sinking sense of banality that always emerges after a few days at home. It didn’t occur to me at the time that banality might be the true face of what I’d been seeking all along.

rw-book-cover

My friends in Toronto were experiencing the same psychic irregularity as my friends in New York: random bursts of exhaustion, a desire to connect combined with a weird inability to absorb any good will. What should have been clear to me from the start was that normalcy was always a figment of pandemic imagination. After so much loss and disruption, to feel “normal” would have been much stranger than whatever it was we felt.
My father was watching TV, my mother was reading her iPad and I felt that sinking sense of banality that always emerges after a few days at home. It didn’t occur to me at the time that banality might be the true face of what I’d been seeking all along.

rw-book-cover

My friends in Toronto were experiencing the same psychic irregularity as my friends in New York: random bursts of exhaustion, a desire to connect combined with a weird inability to absorb any good will. What should have been clear to me from the start was that normalcy was always a figment of pandemic imagination. After so much loss and disruption, to feel “normal” would have been much stranger than whatever it was we felt.
My father was watching TV, my mother was reading her iPad and I felt that sinking sense of banality that always emerges after a few days at home. It didn’t occur to me at the time that banality might be the true face of what I’d been seeking all along.