by Jocelyn Rodriguez

Stuck inside the four walls of my home.
The lost lives bring sorrow.
Nothing to do, nowhere to roam
Waiting for tomorrow.
Helpless in this ill world alone.

by Leanna Pede

Longing for outside
never take it for granted
When will it go back?

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JOURNAL: ISOLATION

by Tia Polanco

I was scared, to be thrown back to the very thing that brought me down. It was then I realized that we were all in this together. For the safety of everyone, ourselves, our parents, our favorite little cousins, our grandparents that make amazing foods. Everyone wants life to go back to normal, but for that to happen it is a team effort. As someone that lives in her mind a lot I know how much this can hurt and just be overall boring, but I’m managing. Playing video games with friends, scrap booking, reading, binging shows, calling friends and family constantly. Although this isn’t ideal, it’s life for now. Enjoying the little things and being there for each other while still practicing social distancing is how we’ll make it through. As for all the seniors, we’ve been through a lot to get here. I am so proud of every single one of you. We deserve prom and graduation, and our school is doing their very best to get that to us. We got this! Stay strong, and safe!

by Isaac DeAraujo

I’ve been quarantined, and I’ve been forced to stay home with nothing to do except online school which I can not stand. But I struggle through it every day. But I’ve been trying to do stuff and get out like yesterday. I was welding with my cousin and I built supports for my roof. But I’m all out of stuff to do. That’s all, Journal.

by Alyssa Mendez

Two weeks was all it was supposed to take
Two weeks until everything got better
Two weeks of staying at home
Two weeks until everything become normal again
What should’ve taken two weeks ended up being unknown

Two weeks of focusing on school
Two weeks of high hopes now gone
Two weeks of slowly losing track
Two weeks of holding back tears
Now two more weeks have passed

Three weeks of attempting high grades
Three weeks of staying in the same two rooms
Three weeks of pretending I’m fine
Three weeks to finally realize how much I took the outside for granted
I see my grandparents once a week but can’t stay long

Four weeks of debating should I sign in today
Four weeks of loneliness seeping in
Four weeks of creativity coursing through my veins
Four weeks of sitting on the bed wondering what do I do
I spend hours on my phone to escape what’s happening

It’s not fair my family and I have to Facetime just to sing ‘Happy Birthday’
It’s not fair testing isn’t free
It’s not fair the hospital and media aren’t releasing everything
It’s not fair supermarkets are sold out of the necessary things
It’s not fair I’m doing my part while so many others aren’t

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by Abigail Nelwin

Social distancing has not necessarily been such a horrible thing. I find myself being able to reflect more, being that the closest person I can always be around is the person in the mirror. I lie awake more often these nights and ponder what it means to be more present, and how much I believe we will all find a deeper meaning in the little things after we can see each other again. I feel the blending of days more intensely; though I did feel them before, I just had more things to distract myself with. The moments that occur now seem undefined and miniscule, yet we are more self aware than ever that our simple actions carry tremendous weight. I see people transforming into more sincere creatures with a common concern that we must protect one another and practice resilience more than ever. This moment in time, despite its calamitous shadow over humanity, is one of the most remarkable occurrences that we will have all collectively experienced. I take all of it in; I absorb the good with the bad, and it does feel more bad than good. Today I listened to the song “Everyday Is Like Sunday” by Morrissey, and I found it ironic considering how relevant it is to our situation. The hook in which he repeats “come, Armageddon, come” harps on the despairing outlook that is synonymous with this outbreak. With this time, I look for perspective. I ponder the future and how it will inevitably be forever changed. I recognize the many moods I feel and they shift like the phases of the moon. I know tranquility, boredom, despair, happiness, and of course, the chronic and creeping underlying rage that still burns with questions and discontent. I am more grateful than ever for just simply being, and through everything, knowing that the distance is only temporary.

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