Can't write lately
Imagine a dog, full of playful energy. The most wonderful joyous dog. Now imagine, each time the dog begs its owner for play (to go outside), it is without exception utterly ignored. The dog does not understand this. It starts wondering if it is a ghost gone mad? The dog behaves as any dutiful dog should. Eats its food, never barks. Why master doesn't let it outside—even a 5-minute walk would do!—it does not understand.
This is how I feel. A locked-up dog.
What to say. Not much. Is there anything to say? Almost certainly not. But writing is play. I want to play.