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Another day. Another morning without leaving. The house is the monastery. But there is no silence in the trap. The street, the city, the country, the world are in an uproar. A hubbub moves from outside to the dining room, kitchen, and bedroom. News from Germany, Spain, Italy, the United States, the Netflix series, HBO, concerts, plays, study offers, poetry, flexible humor for all tastes, hundreds of movies and the office, all blended and at hand. Nothing stops. Neither on Saturdays nor Sundays nor at eight at night nor at dawn; everything is in the sinuous, blurred line of the internet that now lives in the pillow without interruption.  

 

Jonatan Alzuru Aponte

 

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