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“Quarantine Diaries,” by David Garyan (Day 36)

Quarantine Diaries – Day 36 April 19th, 2020

Trento, Italy


To forgive people, you must be an archaeologist, the one willing to bury major discoveries. All maps must be redrawn, even those which helped you reach the sites you'd looked for so long— this must be consumed by flames, lest the urge to come back returns; the shoes you wore must join the maps, but not for the same reason; footprints are the fingerprints of distance— forget the grounds you walked away from. Even so, the clothes you wore are things to keep, for nakedness is total innocence, and who has entered temples bringing nothing to confess? Remember how the wind blew through your hair; that very force shapes the land. That very force carries the sand that’ll bury what you’ve buried. Think about rivers and how they never stop to reflect where they’re going. Carry weight like snow on your shoulders— like mountains on which it never melts away. The only humans on earth—this must be true. And we alone have challenged nature with our humanity, instead of simply receiving it. Before the scientist, before the philosopher— already before woman or man, the earth knew where to dig.


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