And finally, a reception centre in Europe. Here, however, it only seems to be the end of history, the end of the civilisation of Western culture. In these sad and bare rooms, the precariousness and sense of alienation of those who, reluctantly, inhabit them can be felt from every corner.
The subjects are objects. Their identity is merely a bargaining chip, as in a contract, in the quagmire of this society now permeated by the urge to get rich, founded on appearance and individualism.
A disposable society, where every object can be replaced instantly by something else. And, at worst, by someone else.