They recommended that we set up a routine from the very beginning of the lockdown, and I've done it honestly from the moment I realized this was going to last. Every day, after having woken up, tasted and had good breakfast, I turn on my computer and fill my telework with stubbornness. Depending on what the day is like, sometimes I do it more honestly than in the office, dominating calls from the refrigerator or other entertainment;

I try to cook healthy food, and in the afternoon I also take care of both physical and mental. After doing some exercises, in addition to reading books or articles, I have done some online course. And of course, if there's time for a little snack, you have to take care of the little whims.

The first few days I have to say that I liked the new situation. My routine had completely changed from one day to the next, and the change had taken place with open arms. Accustomed to the frenzy, I thought a break was going well, and I began to develop with great rigor the routines that I have already described.

So I started to see myself as a jumble. In order to follow all the recommendations, and in order to rationalize, I tried to lengthen as much as possible what I had in the pantry to make it the least exposed. I felt that the outside temptations called me and, at the same time, giving up on them made me feel more comforting. What later was capricious, I turned it into dogma, and after all the exercises I repeated every day to keep my body in shape, once I had dusted, I ate some olives, although I didn't want to eat.

I also started listening and paying attention to the inner voice, which was already heard very low before, and closed an intimate deal. My soul and I were listening. So I started doing it all systematically. I was blindly following my designed plan, because I thought madness was haunting me. I was doing it all in such a systematic way that it left me time not to think of other things than me.

Slowly I realized that the I I knew was not the one I imagined, but much deeper and harder, and filled with knots. One by one, every time I unleashed a knot, I found something more about myself, and I got into that game as if we were talking about a drug.

Now I've excavated so much in my soul, because I'm lost, and I can't stop thinking about who I really am: the former, or the one I've found after digging so much into this gallery. It frightens me that when this is over, the one waiting for me outside does not accept it, nor do I accept the one outside.

The idea of metamorphosis appears in my head. What if what had happened to Gregory happened to me? What if I wake up from this long night turned into something else? They say that this crisis is going to be a radical change and that society is not going to remain as we have known it.

Now I'm scared to wake up to become an insect in this new society.