A long walk in the neighborhood, mask being a nuisance. Can't breathe under the plastic like fabric; can't even smile. When eyes are the only part revealed, they gain unnecessary alert and lost their shine. Empty streets, closed stories, wary masked figures. When will this endless torment end? Hope, doubt, uncertainty, part of routine anxiety. An examined life is too much for me. I regret a lot of things. Too much time to reflect.