always when I wake
mind struggles, unsuccessful
discover where am
In Book One, Swann’s Way of Remembrance of Things Past, Marcel Proust writes;
Perhaps the immobility of the things that surround us is forced upon by our conviction that they are themselves, and not anything else, and by the immobility of our conceptions of them.
For it always happened that when I awoke like this , and my mind struggled in an unsuccessful attempt to discover where I was, everything would be moving around me through the darkness: things, places, years.
Everything would be moving around me
Through the darkness:
Things,
Places,
Years.
Seems to me that Mr. Proust lived through a Covid 19 multi month at home self pseudo quarantine.
The immobility of our conceptions.
What happened today, happened yesterday and will happen tomorrow.
More the question, will it ever end.
How can it really be August?