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The pandemic leads to reflecting on the uselessness of humans in the face of the forces that govern the globe, the universe, and existence. The only thing man manages to produce is garbage: of things, sounds, and messages, a whirlwind of slimy crap shoved down our throats, forming a lump that reminds us of the emptiness of our existence.
The concurrence of random and specific factors that have gifted and damned us up to the apocalypse, total annihilation, the extinction of shame. Theocratic madness and the distinction between rich and poor: the true failure of reason and intellect. What is existence without eternity? What do you want to leave behind if what you trouble yourself to produce will vanish, sooner or later, consumed by the cosmos? Guernica turned rock.
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