A World of Strangers

I didn't sleep well. To be honest, I didn't sleep. I woke up far too early and couldn't get back to sleep. I'm accustomed to it. I've been through too much stress lately and this has taken a toll on me. I hate being sleep deprived but this is what I usually get after months of stress. See? I'm not over my big boy's loss. Not that I wake up thinking of him but there's something that just don't add up in my life and it haunted me at night. Increasingly, since he died, I've felt a mix of tiredness and vitality. It's like I'm telling to world -and to myself- that, despite I haven't slept, I am full of energies which, of course, it's not true. I have to work so, sleep deprived or not, there are things to do. But at the end of the day, I feel exhausted. I sleep when I'm abroad though which is telling of what haunts me in my house. His loss, I think. Or perhaps -once again- the stress we've all been through in last months. I don't know. 

On the bright side, I've been reading quite a lot. I haven't finished the trilogy I mentioned, it wasn't worth it, to be candid. I read Amy and Isabel by Elisabeth Strout, an American writer I've come to love because she encapsulates entire worlds in tiny tiny microcosms (Olive Kitteridge is also a must to read). I've just started A World of Strangers by Nadine Gordimer. 

Isn't the world we live in a world of strangers? No one really gets what one feels unless moved by strong empathy or by deep love. And even if this case, we fail to grasp all the nuances of someone else's life.