PERSONAL PROJECTS: "I was dreaming when I wrote this". Diary of pandemic: Diary_01

At 7:30 a.m. my son woke me up, I was happy to see his smiling face. We got up and I remembered; I felt butterflies in my stomach, but not in a romantic way. Wash your hands…death toll rises…My thoughts about the future became fuzzy and chaotic.

At 7:30 a.m. my son woke me up, I was happy to see his smiling face. We got up and I remembered; I felt butterflies in my stomach, but not in a romantic way. Wash your hands…death toll rises…My thoughts about the future became fuzzy and chaotic.