Life for Take Out  (a chronicle)*

I am rereading my entire Virginia Wollf book collection here at home and for the next few days we will not be attending any big, important events. Well, by this time we're all concentrating on the things that always basically we had: shelter, family, water, air, and extra-ordinary food via delivery, full of security measures.

Is it the end of the world? Of course not. In our bubbles, we still have originality, positivity, friends over the phone and a lot of good people out there separated. Surely we have more things in common to share. Two thousand and twenty is the year that the petals of the bouquets fell or cast a spell on our Christmas pines last year, so acid and cruel that it is.

Our Oysters were left unused in our wallets. I still wonder what the amnesty policy is for someone you like, but it doesn't keep depriving Instagram's account during the global pandemic? It sounds more like a violation of rights but you can't find the official classification so we know at least for now. The voices that define our world are quiet and contained and everyone wants to feel free.

The distance but the cell phone, how nice they still let us talk about everything, but you will be surprised the how much we still have to talk, as non-partisans we are, when everything to normalcy soon to return.

I'd like to be stupid and say it could be the consequence of a plague by fake mystical and mocking astrologers of China, because I feel that there is a group of people who they appreciate themselves and not all of us. I suspect that the Prime Ministers may be subject to indispensability. A condition also common in broadcasters such as the BBC, by the way. And I'm already preparing to expect conversations of over three thousand characters between me, them and you. We're proving the intimacy of the disturbance and deprivation. I'm sure we'll have much to tell, and so we shall, subtracting what was really sad? Or would it be better report everything?

In the middle of that there are still people being born, girls menstruating, boys becoming men, companies closing and people healing. All is not lost. And I put a lot of faith in my passion for world that each personality will carry. My new favorite kind of boaster is the person who thinks she may have had coronavirus a few weeks ago in fact, and hasn't been diagnosed. And says ¨ I didn´t realize because I´m too busy¨.

How we will move and behave within the new order is most relevant. More and more people, like us, saying no to the old binary thought prisons to which we were limited. And this is already one of my favorite mantras before the end of the year or the end of the world. As well as a thank you very much the pain, thank you for the silence, thank you for the distance, thank you for resilience. Any chance of share this? Good idea. Please do. And with a lot of positive thinking to go through.back at least the nearest Pizza Express or Pub at lunchtime and Happy Hour without fear or greater worry. Or just run free in the park again on Sundays. Then we'll meet again. Imagine what a brilliant event it will be.

                                                                                            (*chronicle written at the end of April 2020)