Since when I’m in quarantine, I have the most absurd dreams. Two-headed goats, Brangelina, a herd of wild corgis raised by a tiny wolf. 

But, even more unexpected, some sudden visions, coming without asking for them: images from places far away in time and memory, sometimes clear and articulated, but it’s hard to say if they are real or not.
They appear in front of my eyes, as an answer from my unconscious to the impossibility of reality of the “outside world” , inaccessible since three weeks.
Yesterday I went outside after a week to buy groceries, and everything looked like a very vivid dream or a hd videogame. I feel like I am more and more detached from reality, from my social alter ego, back to a teenage world, so small but yet so big inside two rooms, as a immense and invisible anthill.

I reconnect, slowly, to myself and to what I had lost: urgent creative needs, a different kind of solitude, an ancient space inside myself, and a completely mine tangible, sacred and secret ritualistic space which I had lost for a long time.

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