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July 3rd, 2020. 

Health - social

HOME IS WHERE WE BREATHE

by Mariana Ramalho

teenage-girl-holding-her-mask-taking-off

I inhaled the fresh air once more before stepping out of the gate. Half of what we could say it’s my face was covered in black. In fact, on that specific day, I was only wearing black as if I was mourning for all the air I couldn’t breathe anymore and the life that one day I had. I was walking deeper and deeper into what would be called “the new normal”.

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I’m sure I was not the only one that just hated, with all my forces, to wear a mask on a sunny warm day while I had to walk faster and faster to be able to handle all the things I needed to do as fast as possible. The so feared virus created a sense of urgency in me and many other people around the world to be at home as much as possible. The days of having fun while drinking a milkshake in the crowded main avenue were now a distant time and a present nightmare. One more day at home and we would be alive.

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Funnily, home was again the best place in the world to be. The life we knew of careless hugs and warm reunions was substituted by the smell of alcohol and two-meter marks on the ground. The science, which was despised by the current “president”, was again the faith of humanity and the possibility of having at least a bit of what we called normal life. Technology that once was said to get people apart was the only way of getting in “touch” with our loved ones, family and friends. Suddenly, people fell into what we would call “the future”. And, as always had happened, the future was the new normal.

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I was getting dizzy and it seemed that each step I gave, my house was getting farther and farther. Inhale and exhale. Almost there. I opened the gate, entered into the front yard, closed the gate, showed my face to the sun and inhaled the pure fresh and lovely air. I was home.

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