The world is extremely dislocated.

I am not mainlining news anymore…just too stressful.

Lately, I’ve found myself staring at the keyboard, waiting for something to spark, but nothing comes. Not because I don’t have thoughts, or opinions, or a deep well of feelings about what’s happening in the world.

It is quite the opposite. Seemingly, everything feels fractured just like my husband’s back.

Words don’t seem to reflect what I am thinking.

I have no words for the hideous way that Vance and trump berated Zelenskyy, a hero in my book.

What about Marjorie Taylor Greene’s right wing lover boy, Brian Glenn, a host at the conservative Right Side Broadcasting Network, who tersely and inappropriately commented on Zelenskyy’s attire. Talk about bad taste, he’s with her! Those two poorly dressed cretins deserve each other. BTW, he has received a torrent of death threats due to his comment.

I could write about the latest political unraveling, the way institutions are failing in real-time, the wars that rage on while people scroll past them like they’re just another inconvenience.

I could talk about how technology now feels like it’s pulling us apart, distorting reality instead of clarifying it. Or how the promise of connection has turned into an illusion, with every conversation feeling more like a battle than an exchange of ideas. The way certainty about the future feels like a relic from a different time.

Maybe this is just what it means to be alive right now, to sit in the discomfort of a world that’s shifting under our feet.

Fractures can’t readily be smoothed over with words.

Maybe I will catch up with the Housewives.