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Chronicle of an overcrowding
Dear friend … think of me. I have written a lot. I suppose they will be posthumous works, but it helps to pass the time. Irene Némirovsky French Suite 1942)
My generation, which is the post-war generation and that of those who follow me lower in age, is the first time that we have faced a dramatic, distressing situation that somewhat resembles the overcrowding of ghettos across distances. You cannot go out, you cannot see family and friends and the most painful thing is that we cannot share the daily growth of our grandchildren, and what is worse, we do not know when we will kiss them again and hold them against our hearts.
These are the first words that I could write in this obligatory confinement, and the paradox is that, despite all the time at our disposal, it is almost impossible for me to read and write, I lack my space and my routine, which are the little bar from my neighborhood next to my table and the coffee I usually drink. That is my ritual and my place of mental concentration, everything I read and write by hand I do there, then at home, I spend it clean on my computer, I am from the pencil and paper generation, I cannot write directly in the computer, I don’t even have a laptop. I love to underline the book in pencil and write on paper and I am a fan of pens. So this is my first installment surpassing the “crown” that I have decided will not defeat me…
