The weekends follow one another and look alike; the other days of the week are no different. My boredom, with its head on the shoulder of my astonishment, observes my passion, my fire, dwindling as if it were only wise to let go, as if the embers tasted better than the direct flame.
I hardly ever go out and have never been so connected to the outside world through virtual channels. I am one of those privileged people who can continue to work as the Thing outside feeds on those who have difficulty defending themselves. This remains almost unreal for me, hypothetical. I have bought an ergonomic chair, a keyboard, a mouse. I receive my salary every two weeks as if the danger passes over my head.