The privileged ones like you and me—if you aren’t privileged, then the right question for you would be: by what degree?—have metamorphosed nicely into the ongoing pandemic. The way we address our wants (and needs) with the changing time is a work of art in itself. After all, for us, it has always been about convenience. We do care about the world but not at the cost of our luxury. We don’t have our skin in the game of saving the world. Nope. We get our wherewithal sorted quite easily as the world in the background goes through an unprecedented chaos. A lot of people, in little over a year, have basically experienced earthquakes without the land beneath their toes moving an inch. Yet, here we are netflixing and chilling and working from home and complaining about wifi and lack of parties and ordering in stuff online and spending more time than ever before catching up on phone and zoom calls and whatnot. Poor us.
A tradition of saving crockery
A tradition of saving crockery
A tradition of saving crockery
The privileged ones like you and me—if you aren’t privileged, then the right question for you would be: by what degree?—have metamorphosed nicely into the ongoing pandemic. The way we address our wants (and needs) with the changing time is a work of art in itself. After all, for us, it has always been about convenience. We do care about the world but not at the cost of our luxury. We don’t have our skin in the game of saving the world. Nope. We get our wherewithal sorted quite easily as the world in the background goes through an unprecedented chaos. A lot of people, in little over a year, have basically experienced earthquakes without the land beneath their toes moving an inch. Yet, here we are netflixing and chilling and working from home and complaining about wifi and lack of parties and ordering in stuff online and spending more time than ever before catching up on phone and zoom calls and whatnot. Poor us.