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Saturday 19 June 2021

Diary of a quarantine The rush of time

The rush of time

Author of the content

di Alessia Di Spirito

The world goes on, time goes by, and we can't keep up with it. We find ourselves observing an atmosphere of apparent calm that turns out to be an infinite time, devoid of its thousand shades, a dilated time ... suspended.

The atmosphere has changed, it is not the same as always, it is not the infinite time with which we deal every day, it is an indefinite, different time. Everyone is afraid of this time, from the smallest to the largest, it seems that each of us has lost all its certainties and everyone clings to the simplest things that appear the safest. I look through my bedroom window, notice the details. I listen to the sounds that nature offers me, I realize that I have never focused on them. I look at everything in front of me, I observe, I imagine, I think, a tear falls on me. Time is suspended, there in front of me, while the rest of the world goes crazy, trying to escape an epidemic. And I don't understand anything anymore.

The weather
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

I keep looking at the nature that surrounds me, I isolate myself from all the noises of my mind, I catapult myself into a new reality while I stop time. And here I am, immersed in a peace that I have always dreamed of, I have no thoughts. The only time I'm forced to think about is what flows on my skin, here the time is finally all mine, I decide what to do with it, I decide how to walk the immense paths that the mind creates for me But all this lasts only for a moment; 3,2,1 ... I hear a sound different from the others, a note not pleasant to my ears, and here it is that brings me back to reality.

Unpleasant notifications continue to arrive on that stupid object, armored towns, empty streets, the epidemic that is expanding, divided families, those who will not be able to see their family for another month, or perhaps more. And there it is, chaos.

Now, however, I would like time not to stop. That everything passed with a snap of the fingers. But time plays bad jokes my dear.

I keep telling myself that #will go well, I try to calm my anxieties and fears, I try to distract myself. But everything I do does nothing but continue to mark the time.

The clock hands contrast the pleasant sounds of nature.

Another tear crosses my face, I would like to stop time, and restart it only when everything is over.

I wish I could scream that this is an unfair competition, time can stop us, but we can't stop time.

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