It's hard to write when everything is upside down, ideas don't flow when all you feel is frustration. Like a cork stuck in your brain. The anger seeping out of the sides ready to blow and burst. When the solitary comfort of your day is a brave man reporting from a screen in a place not unlike your own, but now looks ‘alien’ in more ways than one. You think about your gender kin just surviving with the tiniest thread of hope in far-off places you only see in distress and desperate need in an advert.

It's hard to get up when you feel powerless just sat on your couch, simply sobbing in empathy with neighbours you've never had the pleasure to meet.

But you realise we go on, collectively, step by step percauriosly attempting to hold on to our dignity, holding on to our light that good will out eventually.

To raise our heads above those who have yet to understand what it means to truly be at peace with the world. 

Let the glimmer of sun that sits in heart keep burning for better days ahead. Until then keep going, don’t give up .

Love, Lucy x