"Say, at least do you know, / That all the time that passes / Does not make up much, / That all the time lost / Does not make up any more
...
"
sang Barbara;
and each one, listening to him, could touch with his finger the destructive pain of repressed impetus, this crumbling of life when it is prevented.
What poetry makes us feel, studies today prove it to us: doctors and teachers accurately describe the ravages of an atrophied daily life on the construction of a youth dispossessed of itself, as held hostage in front of screens for over a year.
We are not young and vibrant by whim, but by nature ... and conquering the future from your sofa is not easy.
And if we can - no doubt - live without parties or cafes, can we really grow up without tasting and remaking the world with those who will inhabit it?
To discover
Michel Houellebecq: "A civilization which legalizes euthanasia loses all rights to respect"
The sociology of entry into life, too, shows that lost time cannot be made up and foreshadows for the “Covid generation” still well
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