Oh they’ll take the wind out of you eventually. “They” being the gods and/or the viruses. Wave your spoon. “Mama! The invisible ones are stealing my breeze of inspiration!”
Ding Dong.
“Who’s there?”
“The Baba Yaba!”
“What do you want?”
“I’m here to collect your breeze of inspiration.”
(Sound of chicken legs….)
As near as I can tell the meaning of life lies in protecting both figurative and literal inspiring.
Thoughts one has during a respiratory pandemic.
Planet of the Blind 