Growing up in the proletariat class of communism, we never had much time to ponder over our perennial hunger or our miserable state in life, we were too busy trying to find something to eat, most of the time standing in lines daily to fight over the supply of food allotted that day by the benevolent socialist government run by the Communist Party.
Most of us were quite thin, malnourished, lacking vitamins and proper nutrition, but we were all in the same boat and we could do nothing about it as we had no arms to mount a rebellion to overthrow the Communist Party.
The communists and their sycophants ate well, lived well, and enjoyed all the luxuries they accumulated by stealing everything of value that the proletariat at large had owned prior to the Bolshevik revolution. Their bank accounts were full, they took nice vacations and often, and we watched with resentment from afar.
We did not have the opportunity to better ourselves, or to develop the inner talents we were born with. We were too busy following the Communist Party rules and absurd regulations, to make sure we did not violate any of them or else we were imprisoned or re-educated in Siberia.
As an escapee from communism, the lockdown affected me much worse than it did many Americans around me. They were happy to hide behind masks, stay home, watch TV, get paid weekly for doing nothing, let government tell them what to do, where to go, how, and when. They were happy to comply. But to me, removing the choice of staying home or going out felt like the former communist life.