Feeling Robbed
One hundred forty. One hundred forty days. We all remember March, 13th, right?. That’s the day the confinement started for me. For many of us too. And since then, normality is taking another meaning. Something that we didn’t chose. This is our war. Our third world war. Nothing like we could expect,
One hundred forty. One hundred forty days. We all remember March, 13th, right?. That’s the day the confinement started for me. For many of us too. And since then, normality is taking another meaning. Something that we didn’t chose. This is our war. Our third world war. Nothing like we could expect, but a war requiring as much sacrifices nonetheless. Maybe more. We are still in the invasion phase. So it seems. There is no clear end in sight. Time goes by. Planning is near impossible. Opportunities are lost. I feel robbed.
