add review of four thousand weeks

public/posts/scared-in-lockdown/index.html

@@ -8,7 +8,7 @@
 <title>Fear | The Lazy Oxymoron</title>
 <meta name="keywords" content="poetry, writing" />
 <meta name="description" content="Check it out on Instagram
- I&rsquo;m scared.
+I&rsquo;m scared.
 No, not because there&rsquo;s a pandemic going on,
 even though that itself is enough
 to make one lose their mind.
@@ -21,7 +21,7 @@ an open invitation to a room full of sugary syrup.">
 <meta name="author" content="Siddhartha">
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@@ -30,7 +30,7 @@ an open invitation to a room full of sugary syrup.">
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@@ -69,7 +69,7 @@ an open invitation to a room full of sugary syrup.">
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 </noscript><meta property="og:title" content="Fear" />
 <meta property="og:description" content="Check it out on Instagram
- I&rsquo;m scared.
+I&rsquo;m scared.
 No, not because there&rsquo;s a pandemic going on,
 even though that itself is enough
 to make one lose their mind.
@@ -89,7 +89,7 @@ an open invitation to a room full of sugary syrup." />
 <meta name="twitter:image" content="https://thelazyoxymoron.me/images/fear.png" />
 <meta name="twitter:title" content="Fear"/>
 <meta name="twitter:description" content="Check it out on Instagram
- I&rsquo;m scared.
+I&rsquo;m scared.
 No, not because there&rsquo;s a pandemic going on,
 even though that itself is enough
 to make one lose their mind.
@@ -127,11 +127,11 @@ an open invitation to a room full of sugary syrup."/>
   "@type": "BlogPosting",
   "headline": "Fear",
   "name": "Fear",
-  "description": "Check it out on Instagram\n I\u0026rsquo;m scared.\nNo, not because there\u0026rsquo;s a pandemic going on,\neven though that itself is enough\nto make one lose their mind.\nThere\u0026rsquo;s another deadly virus crawling\nits way into my whole being.\nSlowly eating away at my sanity,\nfeasting on my thoughts,\nmutating inside my head as if a colony of ants was given\nan open invitation to a room full of sugary syrup.",
+  "description": "Check it out on Instagram\nI\u0026rsquo;m scared.\nNo, not because there\u0026rsquo;s a pandemic going on,\neven though that itself is enough\nto make one lose their mind.\nThere\u0026rsquo;s another deadly virus crawling\nits way into my whole being.\nSlowly eating away at my sanity,\nfeasting on my thoughts,\nmutating inside my head as if a colony of ants was given\nan open invitation to a room full of sugary syrup.",
   "keywords": [
     "poetry", "writing"
   ],
-  "articleBody": "Check it out on Instagram\n I’m scared.\nNo, not because there’s a pandemic going on,\neven though that itself is enough\nto make one lose their mind.\nThere’s another deadly virus crawling\nits way into my whole being.\nSlowly eating away at my sanity,\nfeasting on my thoughts,\nmutating inside my head as if a colony of ants was given\nan open invitation to a room full of sugary syrup.\nI’m disintegrating.\nFunny how the same thoughts,\nwho once used to tell me there’s an ocean of possibilities out there;\nare slowly drowning me into the same pool,\nreplacing me, devouring me\nbit-by-bit\nas if my feet are tied with stones of expectations\nand I keep swimming to the bottom, mistaking it for the shore.\nSplash. Splash. Splash.\nI see people making art, saving lives, reading books, writing novels,\ncooking food, running home marathons -\nresolving to turn this gloom into resilient happiness.\nAnd I can’t help but feel disgusted\nat my curled up crying self in the bedroom corner,\nstruggling to tell apart midnight from noon.\nWhen I go to the kitchen to make my first\n(and only) meal of the day,\nthe knife shivers, even though my hands are steady\nit fears for the fingers that are too close to the blunt edge,\nfearing that as the layers of onions come apart, the body holding the knife\nwill shed its pretentious layers as well,\nbaring naked the vast void in the center.\nHow many layers will I have to cut\nbefore I find myself again?\nI’m scared to find out.\nBut there’s hope.\nA distant glimmer at the horizon, but it’s there.\nCounting my breath, one step at a time,\ndragging myself through the dark tunnel,\nfollowing the whisper that says\nit gets better.\nit always does.\nit has to.\n A poem penned down during the Coronavirus pandemic. I see people who are struggling with mental health issues which, I can only imagine, would have exacerbated during these times. Take care of yourself, folks. Don’t forget that you matter. A lot.\n",
+  "articleBody": "Check it out on Instagram\nI’m scared.\nNo, not because there’s a pandemic going on,\neven though that itself is enough\nto make one lose their mind.\nThere’s another deadly virus crawling\nits way into my whole being.\nSlowly eating away at my sanity,\nfeasting on my thoughts,\nmutating inside my head as if a colony of ants was given\nan open invitation to a room full of sugary syrup.\nI’m disintegrating.\nFunny how the same thoughts,\nwho once used to tell me there’s an ocean of possibilities out there;\nare slowly drowning me into the same pool,\nreplacing me, devouring me\nbit-by-bit\nas if my feet are tied with stones of expectations\nand I keep swimming to the bottom, mistaking it for the shore.\nSplash. Splash. Splash.\nI see people making art, saving lives, reading books, writing novels,\ncooking food, running home marathons -\nresolving to turn this gloom into resilient happiness.\nAnd I can’t help but feel disgusted\nat my curled up crying self in the bedroom corner,\nstruggling to tell apart midnight from noon.\nWhen I go to the kitchen to make my first\n(and only) meal of the day,\nthe knife shivers, even though my hands are steady\nit fears for the fingers that are too close to the blunt edge,\nfearing that as the layers of onions come apart, the body holding the knife\nwill shed its pretentious layers as well,\nbaring naked the vast void in the center.\nHow many layers will I have to cut\nbefore I find myself again?\nI’m scared to find out.\nBut there’s hope.\nA distant glimmer at the horizon, but it’s there.\nCounting my breath, one step at a time,\ndragging myself through the dark tunnel,\nfollowing the whisper that says\nit gets better.\nit always does.\nit has to.\nA poem penned down during the Coronavirus pandemic. I see people who are struggling with mental health issues which, I can only imagine, would have exacerbated during these times. Take care of yourself, folks. Don’t forget that you matter. A lot.\n",
   "wordCount" : "343",
   "inLanguage": "en",
   "image":"https://thelazyoxymoron.me/images/fear.png","datePublished": "2020-04-25T23:45:30+05:30",