In the end, you know it's all in our heads again. We write the script, then play our parts as if there's nothing we can do about it.
But it's only a question of switching off.

Allow me to hang on just a little bit longer. The masochist inside me can't miss the opportunity for inspiration. They said Nero burnt Rome; I'm simply attracted to hopeless situations.
We create our stories and our stories create us.

One thing I love about these strange days is that the all-consuming shadow of guilt is no longer upon me.
The absence of regret is liberating.

Freedom is what we most demand, whatever the cost, whatever the difficulties and whatever the arguments against it. Whatever else may be true, we will refuse to see ourselves as anything but free. For it is freedom that makes us human.

Dostoyevsky, who else..