Coronavirus Diaries

Writing has livened up my life every day for the past 18 months.

The rage on the streets took off the veil from my imaginary city and showed its true colors.

I am sick and tired of having my dreams dashed, of having authority based on false history; of empty promises on a bright future.

“The coronavirus changed you completely. And you still whine that you lack any skill,” my friend said with amazement.

Like many others, I have also been losing income because of coronavirus. But the people I meet with have managed to adapt – and they like the new situation.

Only a week ago, it appeared that the coronavirus was everywhere, but here we are with something much stronger: racism.

It is hard to admit that after two months of lockdown, some 36,000 people dead and millions unemployed, London's streets are packed.

Despite the social distancing that has been imposed on us, between the people on the street there has been a sense of togetherness over the winter that we had to endure. 

It is indeed very possible that over the next two years, we will all look back on what is happening now and assess things differently.

Social media has been flooded with the joke, “Has someone been able to get relief?” And like many others, I have given up on getting it.