my uncle died of the coronavirus, i don't know what day. every day is the same. over a month ago. my dad told me as i was halfway down the stairs just having woken up. the weight of the words never registered, the physical distance between my family has been and still is a barrier. i've never felt close with them. being so far away from them meant i wasn't inside that aura of other people's grief, so i didn't feel the effect of that, which, in the case of me not processing a death, has previously helped for it to kick in. it's always at the funeral of someone that it really registers. my parents went to his funeral but i couldn't go because of the ten person limit. i don't think it'll actually register until i meet my family for christmas, which won't happen if the virus is still around at the end of the year. i don't feel sad. i don't feel like it's happened. in theory i feel bad for my aunt, who previously moved into that new house in a sailing town because my uncle was interested in sailing. it was never her passion and i don't think she was ecstatic, but that's what he wanted and she wanted to see him happy. now she's in that house with her two sons who moved in from busy jobs in london.
i feel angry about it, actually. angry that he didn't deserve to go like that. he was a genuinely nice man and i wish i knew him better. i'm angry that so much pressure is being put on healthcare workers and that they don't have adequate protection and aren't payed enough, yet are being hailed as "heaven sent heros" by the very government that has not helped them. they're people that want to do their jobs and want to be paid what they're worth. i'm angry that the uk government is so incompetent, that tories have caused so many deaths, not just the 30,000 people from the virus but the people that died from benefit cuts. i can't describe the feeling i get whenever i sit down and watch boris johnson's 10 minutes of wishy washy indirect ""advice"".  t's a searing hot anger that i don't think i have ever felt before.




to be selfish, thinking about this time, a time where i'm in my early twenties and dreading every minute of aging were i'm not doing something outstanding or kickstarting a career, is terrifying. i can't think about growing older the same way i can't think about the end of lockdown. i can daydream about anything else but when it comes to logical and lateral thinking about the future my mind draws a blank. it's somewhat comforting to know i'm not 100% alone in this regard, with numerous tiktoks telling me that other young adults thought that they would be dead before they were 18 too. comforting in the same vein of realisation that no adult really knows what they're doing, which is actually 70% comforting 30% concerning, because if no one knows what they're doing is this it? is this how my life will pan out? no passions or goals anymore, just cold, hard nothing?