I have to confess I lost all empathy for people in the west over COVID for a while. While we were being hit with the heaviest and largest quarantine in history, cowering down in terror in our apartments, I kept one thought in my head in the first two weeks: “We’re suffering so the rest of the world has time to prepare and fight back.”

Then all y’all didn’t prepare. Didn’t fight back. Instead broke quarantine restrictions because you needed a fucking haircut.

I mean even ignoring the clown-pants-wearing CDC, the sheer utter shitfuckery of the average person freaking out because they had to wear a couple of fucking grams of paper over their mouth and nose, squealing like stuck pigs and generally acting like entitled shitheads over it, not to mention the people who not only broke quarantine, but fucking bragged about it on social media (like the bridal shower that turned into a massive cluster of cases), just had me gobsmacked in disbelief.

So when Wuhan opened up again and people did things like celebrate with a massive pool party that sent shockwaves of (typical) hatred at the Chinese around the world for daring to celebrate after living through the worst quarantine in history and coming out whole, I decided all y’all chucklefucks could die for all I gave a shit about.

Took me a few years to shove that rage back down and clamp it into a red-hot ball deep in my heart.

Now I feel sorry for people suffering again.

Except Trump supporters suffering at the hands of his idiot policies, I mean.