I wanted to live through a kind of historical catastrophe that would allow for a lost kiss, when the pandemic hit. I thought that in any other kind of disaster, people would have one last dance, and care about each other. I thought that people would eventually die as humans, with their heart open.
By now, I know that that won’t happen. While fascism is on the rise, genocide becomes a daily business, cities are burning because of unbearable costs of living and injustices, people are sitting at home. There is no sense of holding on to each other. There is no love, no friendship. No last kisses. Nothing.
While the world is burning, people need a mental health break and label those that care about others as toxic and narcissistic. While we’re sliding into World War 3, people sit at home and meditate. Never having a last kiss, a last dance, a last chance for friendship. And once their potential lover has died, and their friends are locked away, they won’t even mourn them, because they haven’t seen them in years anyways.
This is the tragedy of our time.
The tragedy of our time
