Normally I (try to) blog at least twice a week, but last week my mind’s just not been there. To be honest, my mind’s mostly been with the boy who killed himself in front of my eyes, and I honestly can’t blame myself for not wanting to write. Or do anything significant, for that matter.
I stayed home from work this Monday and I’m glad I did. Meanwhile, my parents have returned home from their holiday and it’s nice to be able to talk to them about what happened, and it’s a relief they understand my reluctance to cross that train crossing for the time being.
With regard to my writing here (and everything else that involves any kind of effort): I am sorry, but at this moment I can’t be bothered with putting too much energy into it. I want to, I just… can’t. It’s like being hungry without having an appetite. Everything tastes bland.