Uncertainty

Somehow I can’t concentrate today, for unknown reasons. Reading “In Defense Women”, no concentration; reading “Emma”, without going forward for several pages; writing is equally without progress. Feeling my own weakness and lack of improvement, but still dreaming of improvement. Reasoning cannot deter a person’s unreasonable thoughts about herself, me being the best example of it.

Is it because of the news of the novel coronavirus? Probably. Restaurants are either shut down, or being restricted to takeout; New York City may be locked down in two days’ time. Staying home seems to be the only option for the foreseeable future, which is rather bleak. I am not against staying home. Often staying home is a pleasure, but once it becomes compulsory, it loses its appeal.

I even mentioned Dorothy Parker when I was chatting with somebody online. I am not really a fan of Dorothy Parker, judging from the fact that I never finished even half of the book “Complete Stories” by her. What I admire her for is writing about her misfortunes in an interesting way. Her fans often lament that Dorothy’s heart was broken again and again by succession of men she fell for. Somehow I just think Dorothy was using her failed love affairs as a form of intellectual flagellation. Not intentionally. I don’t think she did it intentionally though.