Yesterday marked the third month of confinement at Quebec. Three months where we hid, waiting for the worst, that is to say, death. This spring has been really sad. Because living did not want to enter into relationship with the Other, but rather run away and be wary. Even the children represented a danger of contamination.
At certain moments, we thought we were in a science fiction movie. Our deserted streets, our skyscrapers become useless for lack of people to give them meaning and the shock every day when the prime minister announced the number of victims of a virus that is invisible and odorless.
Leave the house to do the shopping has become not only a chore, but a nightmare. The obligation to comply with a separation physical of two metres we turned psychologically. Some became so stressed that they were afraid of having themselves too afraid. Others used their trolley in the aisles of the supermarket as if it was a shield in the manner of the police officers push the protesters in the street.
And what about tails everywhere, in front of the SAQ, for example, where the crane kick for hours sometimes in order to get their hands on the bottles that we griseraient and apaiseraient and our fears of having nothing to do ?
Of these three months, we are not going to emerge unscathed. Who would have guessed that we atterririons on another planet in some way ? Locked away, forbidden to circulate at our discretion, cut off physically from our loved ones, voluntarily giving up the rights so dearly acquired, such as the one to move. Sentenced also no longer dream. Travel, cultural activities, meetings, sentimental. Access to schools, universities, sports centres and even places of worship is banned. We have been sentenced also to the virtual communication both praised and desired, before discovering that it would exist in place of the physical contact as expected.
With the déconfinement progressive, the conditional of the present is a pale copy of the freedom, in short. This freedom we could not imagine that she affadirait in a few days after the 12 march.
The optimists, of which a part is living in blindness, are comforting in believing that this time of slowdown that was imposed on us will make us more wise, more environmentally friendly, less obsessed with performance, of consumption. And most patients also.
But the reactions are more and more negative to the warnings of the health authorities and a crime also responds to a human need to transgress the prohibitions will increase. In fact, the crowds of demonstrators crammed, scrolling in large cities for the past two weeks, demonstrate that the passions prevail over reason. The outrage and anger were making fun of the pandemic.
It is too early to make the balance sheet of this global catastrophe. But the memory is a faculty that forgets. We are neither wiser, or more cautious, or less exacerbated in our ways of living. Because if that was the case, there would be no more wars in this world.