Time is moving forwards, but I'm not.

Everyone is looking forward to the future, but I'm not.

For some, the time of lockdown was an unfamiliar, motionless place, and for others it was life lived in overdrive. The only certain thing was that no-one knew what kind of "new normal" would be on the other side. I came to view it as a safe place, a cocoon in which I isolated myself willingly without the need to resort to the introvert's usual excuses. A cocoon in which it was okay to be numb, and from which I was reluctant to emerge. What would the outside world be like now? Can I take the pieces of the unfinished and no longer relevant, and turn them into something new?