Corona Diaries – Day 8 – Idle
by Gregg Kelly (Scotland)
The relativity of time seems redundant, hours pass and afternoons fade, half past six or half past 10. Does it even matter.
Reliving past glories, near misses, and grand expectations. Reality bites when optimism dies. Despicables spit, while nurses sacrifice. The cancer of a capitalist economy begs and pleads for socialist philanthropy. Irony reigns supreme.
We find humour in the simplest of moments. A cathartic laugh is welcomed.
Virtual parties briefly cure the ills, whereas house parties enable the killer. In this horror movie we’re handshake killers, and we all breathe our last as victims.
Australia burned, earth rebelled.
Society gorges on fear, people cross the street to avoid contact, and yet day trips are carried out. Future generations will not forget, future generations will not forgive.
Cinemas close once again in China, the UK misdirect blame, ineptitude remains.
Under 20,000 deaths is considered a positive outcome. NHS workers risk death or madness. Their sacrifice shall not be forgotten.
Facebook bleeds pain, Facebook breeds hate.
Trump promises medicinal snake oil and magic beans while demanding health care conjures respirators. Boris retreats to his retreat.
Society crumbles. But still hope remains.
Diagnosed 722,088, Deaths – 33,976
