I want to go somewhere mad. But nowhere is open. Anywhere. A weird consequence of globalisation that none of us were expecting. The world is small and quiet.

Tomorrow it will be six weeks since I had a beer in a bar.

It’s been six weeks since I rode a bus.

I’ve sort of lost grasp of time as there aren’t really any markers now.

But today is the 30th of April and we’ve been locked down since March 23rd.

I used to measure the distance into the past by gigs, places I’d been, people I’d caught up with. But now in this weird groundhog day it’s all merged into one.

I don’t even like buses particularly. But it’s the mundane, inconsequential things that get you.

Actually, it’s the awesome things as well.

I want to be on a train going somewhere good. Or in a club with a spectacular sound system. I want to have a mix with all the crew and wonder who the fuck some of the people in my house are.

I’m not actually depressed. I feel reasonably good. I’ve made music, painted, written a lot. I’ve been for a walks on sunny days. I’ve also engaged in some interesting debates on Facebook and had a lot of fun screwing up someone’s tin foil hat and shoving it down their throat. I’ll fucking 5g you off the edge of the flat earth mate. Anyway… I’m still occupied and entertained.

But I would rather this wasn’t happening. I miss the chaos of my life.

Last week it occurred to me that I could still order a pizza. I’m not sure exactly how long it had been, but I realised that it was probably the longest I’ve ever gone without eating pizza.

I also ate cereal today. Apart from muesli, I detest breakfast cereals. But I wanted a snack and it’s the day before shopping day. We do a weekly shop. We’ve cooked and eaten some excellent meals. There are positives. The cereal was a low point.

Strange times.

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