Newspapers declare total alert over the rising number of SARS-CoV-2 cases, and also mention that newly impoverished hospitality workers are “knocking on the municipality’s door”.

As we enter the third wave of the Coronavirus pandemic, authorities are closing schools and debating a total lockdown. In the meantime my flatmate, who left his village in Sicily one week after turning 18 to embark on a successful career as a chef here in Venice, is once again unemployed, and is still waiting for his unemployment money for May and June.

While the country remain hypnotized by the evolution of the pandemic, every morning he checks his bank account: “It’s like a form of mental illness, I wake up and I see if I got the money”, another example of the vast range of neuroses, fears and anxieties that one year of failed management of the pandemic has inflicted on an entire generation.

But the wind is changing, people are really getting sick of this shit, and soon those who did this to us shall discover that “science” won’t save them from our wrath.