And suddenly it starts all over again. What is it? Well everything, everywhere. Everything comes back on, everything restarts, everything comes back to existence. Reduced to a whisper for too long in the pandemic pandemonium, the world is scraping their voices, scales and thunders. Suddenly he remembers that he was speaking louder than the others, when he was speaking without a mask, at the Big Dinner table. So he regains his arrogance and his superb ugliness. It explodes in the sky of Tel Aviv, it crashes into Gaza, it beats up in Cali, it backfires in the China Sea. And it reopens restaurants at the end of the month.
Buisness is back. The virus is receding, regardless of the indicators. There isn’t much the virus can do. It’s like that. He too is in the process of rediscovering his memory, under his little airs of the apocalypse. Finished the scorched earth of hydroalcoholic monologue. It couldn’t last, anyway. Any pangolin would tell you. How do you expect a few molecules of reality, however deceptive, to gag all the others until the end of time? No, the virus has not said its last word, but now it will have to share.
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