The title of the post paraphrases a well-known book written by Gabriel Garcia Marquez and it speaks about restrictions and longing.

The truth is that I could have simply written a diary post about every single day that I've spent "at home". But it is quite difficult to encompass the multitude of feelings and sensations that overwhelmed me and the whole world.

As I believe I am mentally strong I have started the two weeks of lockdown with big plans: I will reorganize all my closest and I will read and I will do all the things I always wanted to do but I never had time for. And I did it: my clothes are lined up like obedient soldiers following the Chromatic and thickness rules. Now it's been seven weeks!Everything seems to have found a sort of breathe-in state, neither desolate/barren, nor calm. There is a void that hangs over my head like a distorted bubble.

I tried to keep everyone happy and active being more preoccupied about their well-being ...