Saturday, May 23
Last night, I realized, as though I had never known it, that a child's imagination is limitless. I wondered what effect this situation would have on the imagination of children. Then I had a revelation: I usually write fiction, and while doing so, try to capture the sensation of childhood imagination whenever I write. Thus, I come up with the most elaborate ideas to fit into a plot, and they flow limitlessly.
In the past, when I have tried to write fiction, it hasn't flowed as easily as it has while writing this blog. That could be because I'm older and better at the craft of writing, of course. But then I couldn't help but wonder if this situation feels fictitious—so extremely bizarre that I still haven't yet accepted its reality.
This morning my parents and I went to the furniture store to buy a laptop for myself for college. (In fact, I'm typing this post on the laptop and not my phone, for once. I forgot the nice feeling of a keyboard that can be had while writing. It's nice to have again.)
The furniture store is huge, mind you, but I would say over 95% of people took the proper precautions. I don't think I saw more than a dozen people without a mask on; most people stayed six feet away, especially as marked out in check-out lines by tape on the floor; there was hand sanitizer everywhere; there was even a lengthy announcement over the intercom that made the recommendations and policies clear.
Meanwhile, however, I also heard our downtown was very crowded and busy, today. Outdoor patios for restaurants were full. Obviously, people can't wear masks while eating, and you go out to eat to gather. I understand that much. But not even distance between parties? I, for one, don't even want to share germs with people around me at restaurants under normal circumstances, let alone during this.
That brings me to my next set of thoughts, I suppose. I'm sure I've mentioned all of these questions several times earlier in this blog. However, both my parents—but especially my mom—seemed deeper in thought and pondering today, so I was again, too. I wondered, how many small businesses will fail? And which ones? Where? After all, some places seem to be coming back much more than others. I wondered, what will do to the imagination of a child? Just how much will this change our culture? I don't mean in big, broad ways, necessarily, but, rather, the small ways. For instance, will elbow bumps become the cool new "thing" amongst youth? Will they become accepted in the business world? Will there be school again in the fall? If not in the fall, ever in the spring semester? What about next year? Will there be another peak around Christmas? That would make this even harder, having to spend the holiday season cooped up and alone. Will offices ever exist like they used to? If offices close in favor of working from home, how will the real estate market be affected?
I could go on and on, but I think you understand the point. And these are just the questions that affect me, and whose answers will have a direct impact on my life. How many other questions are millions across the country asking themselves and their loved ones at this moment?
The World will never know, just as we may never know the exact answers to some of these questions. But hopefully you're reading this at some point in the distant future with answers to some of them, whether you're a student of history or just a curious person eager to hear a good story of—well, I don't know precisely what yet. You're learning that reading just as fast as I'm typing it. Hopefully there's a moral and theme and plot of some sort. Let someone around you know what you think this story is about. Maybe you'll start some good classroom discussion, if classrooms still exist, whenever you're reading.
In the past, when I have tried to write fiction, it hasn't flowed as easily as it has while writing this blog. That could be because I'm older and better at the craft of writing, of course. But then I couldn't help but wonder if this situation feels fictitious—so extremely bizarre that I still haven't yet accepted its reality.
This morning my parents and I went to the furniture store to buy a laptop for myself for college. (In fact, I'm typing this post on the laptop and not my phone, for once. I forgot the nice feeling of a keyboard that can be had while writing. It's nice to have again.)
The furniture store is huge, mind you, but I would say over 95% of people took the proper precautions. I don't think I saw more than a dozen people without a mask on; most people stayed six feet away, especially as marked out in check-out lines by tape on the floor; there was hand sanitizer everywhere; there was even a lengthy announcement over the intercom that made the recommendations and policies clear.
Meanwhile, however, I also heard our downtown was very crowded and busy, today. Outdoor patios for restaurants were full. Obviously, people can't wear masks while eating, and you go out to eat to gather. I understand that much. But not even distance between parties? I, for one, don't even want to share germs with people around me at restaurants under normal circumstances, let alone during this.
That brings me to my next set of thoughts, I suppose. I'm sure I've mentioned all of these questions several times earlier in this blog. However, both my parents—but especially my mom—seemed deeper in thought and pondering today, so I was again, too. I wondered, how many small businesses will fail? And which ones? Where? After all, some places seem to be coming back much more than others. I wondered, what will do to the imagination of a child? Just how much will this change our culture? I don't mean in big, broad ways, necessarily, but, rather, the small ways. For instance, will elbow bumps become the cool new "thing" amongst youth? Will they become accepted in the business world? Will there be school again in the fall? If not in the fall, ever in the spring semester? What about next year? Will there be another peak around Christmas? That would make this even harder, having to spend the holiday season cooped up and alone. Will offices ever exist like they used to? If offices close in favor of working from home, how will the real estate market be affected?
I could go on and on, but I think you understand the point. And these are just the questions that affect me, and whose answers will have a direct impact on my life. How many other questions are millions across the country asking themselves and their loved ones at this moment?
The World will never know, just as we may never know the exact answers to some of these questions. But hopefully you're reading this at some point in the distant future with answers to some of them, whether you're a student of history or just a curious person eager to hear a good story of—well, I don't know precisely what yet. You're learning that reading just as fast as I'm typing it. Hopefully there's a moral and theme and plot of some sort. Let someone around you know what you think this story is about. Maybe you'll start some good classroom discussion, if classrooms still exist, whenever you're reading.
FrIday, May 22
Today was another good day, but there also isn’t much to say about it.
I woke up quite early, because I always forget the garbage truck comes at what must be around 7:30 on Friday mornings. I tossed and turned for a few hours after though, then watched YouTube, played the same game of Super Mario Bros. 3 I’ve been working on for quite some time, and then read a chapter of the book I’ve been reading, “The Things They Carried,” by Tim O’Brien. I mentioned it earlier, but it really is a remarkable book. Some review on the inside of the cover mentions it’s a crucial read for anyone interested in writing well. I must agree.
After that, I made myself lunch. That was rewarding. I made myself a Turkey sandwich on a toasted Onion bun, with bacon, celery slices (since we didn’t have lettuce), and jarred pizza sauce (because it provides a much more robust flavor than just a slice of tomato). I made myself that sandwich a few times around the start of the year, except with lettuce. Eating it reminded me of simpler times (even though they didn’t seem so simple then... funny how that works).
The best thing happened after that. I went to see my girlfriend for the first time in roughly a month. She was cleared to go out of the house, as long as she takes the same precautions as everyone else should be taking. So we did, but it was very nice even just seeing her.
We also walked through this park I’ve always wanted to explore. It’s really kind of picturesque, in a way I wouldn’t have ever expected. We also saw an alumnus from my high school running.
Then as I drove back home from seeing my girlfriend, I passed my district’s alumni house and realized, I, too, am an alumnus now. Well, I couldn’t figure out which was the proper term (Alumni? Alumnus? Alumnae?) until I looked it up just now. But the point stands: I’m one of them.
Bizarre.
The day finished off with nice time spent with my parents, a renewed confidence (I think) in driving, and a surprise visit from old neighbors! I was also sent in the mail my portfolio from my creative writing class this last semester of high school. That was nice to have a read through.
Time all sort of runs together now I think. Memories come and go, of old times and just this past semester of high school. I just don’t know if it runs together because I’ve graduated or because of this quarantine.
My hunch is it’s both.
I woke up quite early, because I always forget the garbage truck comes at what must be around 7:30 on Friday mornings. I tossed and turned for a few hours after though, then watched YouTube, played the same game of Super Mario Bros. 3 I’ve been working on for quite some time, and then read a chapter of the book I’ve been reading, “The Things They Carried,” by Tim O’Brien. I mentioned it earlier, but it really is a remarkable book. Some review on the inside of the cover mentions it’s a crucial read for anyone interested in writing well. I must agree.
After that, I made myself lunch. That was rewarding. I made myself a Turkey sandwich on a toasted Onion bun, with bacon, celery slices (since we didn’t have lettuce), and jarred pizza sauce (because it provides a much more robust flavor than just a slice of tomato). I made myself that sandwich a few times around the start of the year, except with lettuce. Eating it reminded me of simpler times (even though they didn’t seem so simple then... funny how that works).
The best thing happened after that. I went to see my girlfriend for the first time in roughly a month. She was cleared to go out of the house, as long as she takes the same precautions as everyone else should be taking. So we did, but it was very nice even just seeing her.
We also walked through this park I’ve always wanted to explore. It’s really kind of picturesque, in a way I wouldn’t have ever expected. We also saw an alumnus from my high school running.
Then as I drove back home from seeing my girlfriend, I passed my district’s alumni house and realized, I, too, am an alumnus now. Well, I couldn’t figure out which was the proper term (Alumni? Alumnus? Alumnae?) until I looked it up just now. But the point stands: I’m one of them.
Bizarre.
The day finished off with nice time spent with my parents, a renewed confidence (I think) in driving, and a surprise visit from old neighbors! I was also sent in the mail my portfolio from my creative writing class this last semester of high school. That was nice to have a read through.
Time all sort of runs together now I think. Memories come and go, of old times and just this past semester of high school. I just don’t know if it runs together because I’ve graduated or because of this quarantine.
My hunch is it’s both.
Thursday, May 21
I had a hard time falling asleep last night. I was kept up by thoughts of today, the day I had dreaded for so long. Last night, I had to keep reminding myself that if all things go according to plan, it’s not really goodbye, and I’ll be teaching at my high school again in four years, after college.
But I suppose that’s the scary part: one of the biggest things people are learning from this situation is that plans don’t always work out. The Universe steps in and messes up plans. Of course, it won’t always be this big of a step and mess-up, but smaller things will inevitably come up.
I did eventually maneuver my mind onto a different track of the train of thought. I never really considered the fact that I’d be a high school graduate. I don’t know why, exactly. It’s just kind of bizarre. It really feels like a dream, but not in the best of ways either.
I also thought how grateful I am this isn’t happening during Christmas and the holiday season. Then I realized it could again.
I signed up to go early enough in the day that I wouldn’t overthink the whole thing. I took the interstate, so I could get more experience driving at high speeds, for what will eventually become the daily commute to college. Hey, every little bit helps, as they say, and they’re right. I felt a little more confident after that. I was just barely stressed enough that it gave me an adrenaline rush, without freaking me out.
Being at the high school was weird. You can tell they got an early start on their summer cleaning, so they could get a deeper cleaning done. Tables and chairs were all out of classrooms and in the hallways, and the janitorial staff was hard at work. They deserve praise and a raise for all the work they’re doing, not just those in my high school, but those nationwide.
I ended up having to walk back and forth through the building about 3 times, because I first forgot to pay a fine, but it turns out I didn’t have a fine to pay. So I kept going back through to the end of the path they had set up, then realized I forgot to purchase a tassel, which had to be done in the same office where a fine would be paid.
I saw my English teacher along the way. He said he was still enjoying this blog, but needed to catch up on it. He appreciated what I said about AP Lit, however. I wish I could’ve shaken your hand, too.
I then had trouble remembering where the gym they wanted us to go out of was. I asked a teacher along my way, then pondered out loud as I walked away, “I’ve been here four years, you’d think I’d know by now where it was.” I guess that goes to show you I’m not the athletic type.
When I finally got to the end, and started toward the door, with my box of art projects and graduation supplies in hand, I stopped for a moment. I remembered something my girlfriend has told me before many important occasions before: Always walk in with your right foot.
I then processed the following lot of information in the blink of an eye: I thought of something I wrote a few weeks ago, about stepping through that doorway from high school into adulthood. I was about to step through a doorway, leaving the high school. But I was also kind of walking into adulthood.
So I took that first step with my right foot.
I then came home and spent most of the remainder of my day relaxing and listening to stories from and talking with my parents.
Overall, today was a good day, and one—surprisingly—without tears.
But I suppose that’s the scary part: one of the biggest things people are learning from this situation is that plans don’t always work out. The Universe steps in and messes up plans. Of course, it won’t always be this big of a step and mess-up, but smaller things will inevitably come up.
I did eventually maneuver my mind onto a different track of the train of thought. I never really considered the fact that I’d be a high school graduate. I don’t know why, exactly. It’s just kind of bizarre. It really feels like a dream, but not in the best of ways either.
I also thought how grateful I am this isn’t happening during Christmas and the holiday season. Then I realized it could again.
I signed up to go early enough in the day that I wouldn’t overthink the whole thing. I took the interstate, so I could get more experience driving at high speeds, for what will eventually become the daily commute to college. Hey, every little bit helps, as they say, and they’re right. I felt a little more confident after that. I was just barely stressed enough that it gave me an adrenaline rush, without freaking me out.
Being at the high school was weird. You can tell they got an early start on their summer cleaning, so they could get a deeper cleaning done. Tables and chairs were all out of classrooms and in the hallways, and the janitorial staff was hard at work. They deserve praise and a raise for all the work they’re doing, not just those in my high school, but those nationwide.
I ended up having to walk back and forth through the building about 3 times, because I first forgot to pay a fine, but it turns out I didn’t have a fine to pay. So I kept going back through to the end of the path they had set up, then realized I forgot to purchase a tassel, which had to be done in the same office where a fine would be paid.
I saw my English teacher along the way. He said he was still enjoying this blog, but needed to catch up on it. He appreciated what I said about AP Lit, however. I wish I could’ve shaken your hand, too.
I then had trouble remembering where the gym they wanted us to go out of was. I asked a teacher along my way, then pondered out loud as I walked away, “I’ve been here four years, you’d think I’d know by now where it was.” I guess that goes to show you I’m not the athletic type.
When I finally got to the end, and started toward the door, with my box of art projects and graduation supplies in hand, I stopped for a moment. I remembered something my girlfriend has told me before many important occasions before: Always walk in with your right foot.
I then processed the following lot of information in the blink of an eye: I thought of something I wrote a few weeks ago, about stepping through that doorway from high school into adulthood. I was about to step through a doorway, leaving the high school. But I was also kind of walking into adulthood.
So I took that first step with my right foot.
I then came home and spent most of the remainder of my day relaxing and listening to stories from and talking with my parents.
Overall, today was a good day, and one—surprisingly—without tears.
Wednesday, May 20
Today was really the final day. There will be no other kind of final day after today, unless you include returning and picking up the last things from school tomorrow.
Wow. That’s setting in as I’m writing this. I am actively emoting right now. I think there’s something pretty powerful about that.
Anyway.
I’m also currently downloading all of my files from the cloud onto a flash drive—6 years’ worth of work takes quite a while. It’s just crazy how time has flown.
Before I started doing this, I went on a brief drive with my parents. We went to Kwik Shop to get beverages. My mom asked what I wanted, so I said “surprise me”. I ended up with a grape soda. My summer begins.
”Never Say Goodbye” by Bon Jovi played on the radio. This song has honestly been haunting me for most of the year. I haven’t heard it in quite some time, but the last time I did, I cried, fearing the end and having to say goodbye. It’s not until today I really understood the meaning:
“Together, forever
Never say goodbye, never say goodbye
You and me and my old friends
Hoping it would never end
Never say goodbye, never say goodbye
Holdin’ on, we got to try
Holdin’ on to never say goodbye”
I mean, I always knew it was against saying goodbye. But now, living the life we’ve all been forced to live, I can finally accept that we really don’t have to say goodbye. And if there’s any big silver lining to come of this situation, I think it’s that it really has brought my friends and I closer. Since we missed out on that last time together, we’re keeping in touch, as if trying to savor each other. We had the chance to practice being apart, almost, too, so we know how to keep in touch. I think that’s pretty special. High school ends, but our time together doesn’t.
Earlier in the day, I sent thank you’s to people on my yearbook staff. Working with them was a blessing, even when we hit obstacles.
I also took my last AP exam today. I won’t say anything about it, for obvious reasons, but I hope next year’s exams can be taken the normal way, again.
In other news, I think the cardinals have hatched. New life has entered the world. My mom also swears she saw the mama bird eating the freshly empty shells. Believe it or not, birds do sometimes do that; after all, they need to get rid of them somehow and they’re a good source of calcium. New life has entered the world, and the new life’s former “barriers” have been gotten rid of through digestion.
That’s pretty poetic in an odd way.
Wow. That’s setting in as I’m writing this. I am actively emoting right now. I think there’s something pretty powerful about that.
Anyway.
I’m also currently downloading all of my files from the cloud onto a flash drive—6 years’ worth of work takes quite a while. It’s just crazy how time has flown.
Before I started doing this, I went on a brief drive with my parents. We went to Kwik Shop to get beverages. My mom asked what I wanted, so I said “surprise me”. I ended up with a grape soda. My summer begins.
”Never Say Goodbye” by Bon Jovi played on the radio. This song has honestly been haunting me for most of the year. I haven’t heard it in quite some time, but the last time I did, I cried, fearing the end and having to say goodbye. It’s not until today I really understood the meaning:
“Together, forever
Never say goodbye, never say goodbye
You and me and my old friends
Hoping it would never end
Never say goodbye, never say goodbye
Holdin’ on, we got to try
Holdin’ on to never say goodbye”
I mean, I always knew it was against saying goodbye. But now, living the life we’ve all been forced to live, I can finally accept that we really don’t have to say goodbye. And if there’s any big silver lining to come of this situation, I think it’s that it really has brought my friends and I closer. Since we missed out on that last time together, we’re keeping in touch, as if trying to savor each other. We had the chance to practice being apart, almost, too, so we know how to keep in touch. I think that’s pretty special. High school ends, but our time together doesn’t.
Earlier in the day, I sent thank you’s to people on my yearbook staff. Working with them was a blessing, even when we hit obstacles.
I also took my last AP exam today. I won’t say anything about it, for obvious reasons, but I hope next year’s exams can be taken the normal way, again.
In other news, I think the cardinals have hatched. New life has entered the world. My mom also swears she saw the mama bird eating the freshly empty shells. Believe it or not, birds do sometimes do that; after all, they need to get rid of them somehow and they’re a good source of calcium. New life has entered the world, and the new life’s former “barriers” have been gotten rid of through digestion.
That’s pretty poetic in an odd way.
Tuesday, May 19
Today was less than productive. But I suppose I’m okay with that, since I know tomorrow will be. Tomorrow will have to be. I have an AP test and have to gather anything I have to return to the school. If every other day is productive, I think I’m doing a pretty good job.
It does feel like much later in the week, however. Seeing as I haven’t done too much yet this week, that’s somewhat concerning that it already feels like I’ve done a week’s worth of—well, I can’t even tell you. I do not know.
I also pondered briefly today the concept that what’s happening to us right now, as bad as it is to us, could end up being simply a blip on the pages of human history. Not to say it isn’t important—this is quite possibly the biggest thing to happen this half of this century—just to say that history is... interesting.
I find it extremely important, so that we learn from our past, both successes and failures. Some fail to see that, however. For some, history is just a series of names and numbers with little significance beyond right answers on a test. Soon, you’ll have kids learning about this, just like I learned about Watergate, the Iran Hostage crisis, and 9/11; it’ll be so recent, it’ll be covered in the last week or two of the semester, because there’s extra time. Someday, kids will learn about the current pandemic like I learned about the Great Depression and World War II; it’s likely altered the way the country functions, after all. Someday, it’ll be even more distant, like the Plague.
Now perhaps that’s sad to you, that this, hundreds of years from now, will be nothing more than a page in a history book, with photos and maybe a quote from a politician. But I consider it a beacon of hope. Perhaps the biggest lesson history can give us is, We went through *that*, and our species still exists today? Wow!
And that’s a lesson that’s not going to change any time soon. Just like every other dark day, we will live to see another.
It does feel like much later in the week, however. Seeing as I haven’t done too much yet this week, that’s somewhat concerning that it already feels like I’ve done a week’s worth of—well, I can’t even tell you. I do not know.
I also pondered briefly today the concept that what’s happening to us right now, as bad as it is to us, could end up being simply a blip on the pages of human history. Not to say it isn’t important—this is quite possibly the biggest thing to happen this half of this century—just to say that history is... interesting.
I find it extremely important, so that we learn from our past, both successes and failures. Some fail to see that, however. For some, history is just a series of names and numbers with little significance beyond right answers on a test. Soon, you’ll have kids learning about this, just like I learned about Watergate, the Iran Hostage crisis, and 9/11; it’ll be so recent, it’ll be covered in the last week or two of the semester, because there’s extra time. Someday, kids will learn about the current pandemic like I learned about the Great Depression and World War II; it’s likely altered the way the country functions, after all. Someday, it’ll be even more distant, like the Plague.
Now perhaps that’s sad to you, that this, hundreds of years from now, will be nothing more than a page in a history book, with photos and maybe a quote from a politician. But I consider it a beacon of hope. Perhaps the biggest lesson history can give us is, We went through *that*, and our species still exists today? Wow!
And that’s a lesson that’s not going to change any time soon. Just like every other dark day, we will live to see another.
Monday, May 18
I woke up later than I intended today, but it was nice. No alarm, no sounds, just the sun shining through the blinds as I toss and turn the cobwebs away.
Things are starting to feel normal again, for lack of a better term. I don’t know if it’s good or bad, but going out (albeit with a face mask, and properly distanced) somehow seems more acceptable and—dare I say it—safe. I don’t quite understand how that’s possible, since cases in our state are skyrocketing. But I guess if I’m taking the proper precautions and I only go to establishments also taking the proper precautions and open areas away from people, I suppose I’m keeping safe? It’s a large expanse of grey area. This uncharted territory we’re in expands larger than I ever thought possible.
Lately, my girlfriend and I have been telling each other three good things we’re each doing for ourselves every day. It’s been nice, and helps one to refocus on the positives. I strongly suggest trying it with someone you’re close with—it’s worked wonders for us.
The last few days overall have also been an improvement from the majority of last week. I think last week was rough for everyone. Family, friends, and personally, around me and also to my core. However, these last few days have been, on the whole, relaxing. I’ve felt better, both within myself, and also outside and around myself. I feel more connected to those around me again. I also learned of several good things that happened in more distant circles recently. Some friends made up, family has had enjoyable experiences, and potatoes are sprouting in the garden. We also got one really good rainstorm the other day.
Like all else, each day seems remote and distant. That’s just how they’ve been: each day flies by in the blink of an eye, but then the next day feels like a week later. Perhaps my mind is now also remembering the voids of sleep, instead of simply tying each day together as a constant flow?
I also took part in a birthday drive-by parade of sorts today. That was very nice. A close friend of mine turned 18, so for his Golden birthday, his mom arranged for us to drive by at 18:00, keeping up with the numerical theme. I also got out and stayed for a bit, along with a couple other friends. It was nice to see them, and not just in little thumbnails next to their names in my phone.
Again, normalcy was felt, even if it’s not the old normal. But I suppose the old normal is shriveled and dead by now. We must continue to look to the future, while remaining aware of our present situation.
Things are starting to feel normal again, for lack of a better term. I don’t know if it’s good or bad, but going out (albeit with a face mask, and properly distanced) somehow seems more acceptable and—dare I say it—safe. I don’t quite understand how that’s possible, since cases in our state are skyrocketing. But I guess if I’m taking the proper precautions and I only go to establishments also taking the proper precautions and open areas away from people, I suppose I’m keeping safe? It’s a large expanse of grey area. This uncharted territory we’re in expands larger than I ever thought possible.
Lately, my girlfriend and I have been telling each other three good things we’re each doing for ourselves every day. It’s been nice, and helps one to refocus on the positives. I strongly suggest trying it with someone you’re close with—it’s worked wonders for us.
The last few days overall have also been an improvement from the majority of last week. I think last week was rough for everyone. Family, friends, and personally, around me and also to my core. However, these last few days have been, on the whole, relaxing. I’ve felt better, both within myself, and also outside and around myself. I feel more connected to those around me again. I also learned of several good things that happened in more distant circles recently. Some friends made up, family has had enjoyable experiences, and potatoes are sprouting in the garden. We also got one really good rainstorm the other day.
Like all else, each day seems remote and distant. That’s just how they’ve been: each day flies by in the blink of an eye, but then the next day feels like a week later. Perhaps my mind is now also remembering the voids of sleep, instead of simply tying each day together as a constant flow?
I also took part in a birthday drive-by parade of sorts today. That was very nice. A close friend of mine turned 18, so for his Golden birthday, his mom arranged for us to drive by at 18:00, keeping up with the numerical theme. I also got out and stayed for a bit, along with a couple other friends. It was nice to see them, and not just in little thumbnails next to their names in my phone.
Again, normalcy was felt, even if it’s not the old normal. But I suppose the old normal is shriveled and dead by now. We must continue to look to the future, while remaining aware of our present situation.
Saturday, May 16
I am now two months in to this quarantine. My state has gone from one of the lowest-case states to one of the highest in a matter of weeks. The United States has over 1.5 million cases, and we’re at almost 90,000 deaths.
I believe we’re finally entering a new phase of this. At least, I am personally. I’ve finally accepted that this is how life has been, how it is, and how it will be, for at least a little while.
A few days ago, I was looking through a notebook my mom uses for everything from to-do lists to keeping score at Spades or Tripoley. Somewhere in there from sometime in late March, I saw a three digit number, somewhere in the 600 range. That was the number of nationwide deaths.
Perhaps when this is all said and over, and I read back through this narrative from beginning to end, that number won’t seem so foreign. But now that I’m living at this point in this pandemic, when we’re steadily approaching 100,000 deaths, 600 is in fact the number that is hard to believe. Somehow, 90,000 is more comprehensible than 600, when before, 90,000 was a number I had a hard time tapping my head around.
It’s interesting really—normally, an average person can comprehend 50, a hundred, probably many can comprehend 500, or a few thousand even. But 90,000 is huge. Most people don’t even see a number that large when they put down their annual income when filing their taxes. But in this reality—in this instance—600 is hard to understand, and tens of thousands has become normal.
This is also the weekend I would’ve graduated. I would’ve picked my brothers up from the airport today. I would’ve been with family. I would’ve woken up tomorrow, nervous and excited to finally walk across that stage. Then we would’ve gone camping next week.
I can’t help but wonder if a different me in a different reality in a different Universe is enjoying that trip.
Since it is that time of year, too, and there are over 3 million of us high school seniors facing the same graduation realities, the media bigwigs decided to put together a “Graduate Together” television event. Obama spoke, LeBron James hosted, and there were a plethora of moments and scenes and objects and icons that have defined our generation, in ways other than this.
It was beautiful, I think. It really was a beautiful overview of our lives, which is fitting, I think, since this moment is really tying all of it up, and defining us even further. I have a long note in my phone about what I thought; I won’t spill out every last detail. But I do have a few key takeaways.
During the program, scenes of my life up to this point flashed before me: playing under that pine tree at recess in Elementary school; that day in 7th grade English class when we all shared our speeches; laughing with friends in our usual spot before school in the mornings; and sitting with friends in the art room, feeling at home. My life truly has been wonderful, despite the hardships brought by this and other things. But we’re getting through this, together apart. And I am so blessed to have friends to share this experience with, even though we’re miles away. I can’t wait to have lunch with them again and share crazy stories from this crazy time with them.
LeBron James said something beautiful: Essentially, he told us we will determine how we rebuild our communities. The future is in our hands, ours for shaping, in a way never given to graduating classes before us.
I was also reminded why I am writing this narrative as it’s happening. This is truly a story that defines us—it must be told.
So why am I telling it, of all people? I sincerely hope I’m not the only one, and I highly doubt I am. It shouldn’t just be me. The more stories that come out of this, the more we will learn. The more stories that come out of this, the more we’ll come together and understand that we all share the same common pain and suffering and joy. Perhaps we’ll understand better what we each go through, and what we’re all tough enough to get through. Perhaps the more stories we hear, the less confused and lost we will be.
Whatever you would like to add to my list, I think we can agree that the more stories that come out of this time, the better. I strongly believe one of the biggest reasons stories are told is to bridge the gap between one’s experience and another’s. It’s one of the biggest reasons why I write, anyway.
So again, why me? I’m just doing my part. You do yours.
Additionally, I am going to add just a final word to my statement from Tuesday and Thursday: Onward and upward, together.
I believe we’re finally entering a new phase of this. At least, I am personally. I’ve finally accepted that this is how life has been, how it is, and how it will be, for at least a little while.
A few days ago, I was looking through a notebook my mom uses for everything from to-do lists to keeping score at Spades or Tripoley. Somewhere in there from sometime in late March, I saw a three digit number, somewhere in the 600 range. That was the number of nationwide deaths.
Perhaps when this is all said and over, and I read back through this narrative from beginning to end, that number won’t seem so foreign. But now that I’m living at this point in this pandemic, when we’re steadily approaching 100,000 deaths, 600 is in fact the number that is hard to believe. Somehow, 90,000 is more comprehensible than 600, when before, 90,000 was a number I had a hard time tapping my head around.
It’s interesting really—normally, an average person can comprehend 50, a hundred, probably many can comprehend 500, or a few thousand even. But 90,000 is huge. Most people don’t even see a number that large when they put down their annual income when filing their taxes. But in this reality—in this instance—600 is hard to understand, and tens of thousands has become normal.
This is also the weekend I would’ve graduated. I would’ve picked my brothers up from the airport today. I would’ve been with family. I would’ve woken up tomorrow, nervous and excited to finally walk across that stage. Then we would’ve gone camping next week.
I can’t help but wonder if a different me in a different reality in a different Universe is enjoying that trip.
Since it is that time of year, too, and there are over 3 million of us high school seniors facing the same graduation realities, the media bigwigs decided to put together a “Graduate Together” television event. Obama spoke, LeBron James hosted, and there were a plethora of moments and scenes and objects and icons that have defined our generation, in ways other than this.
It was beautiful, I think. It really was a beautiful overview of our lives, which is fitting, I think, since this moment is really tying all of it up, and defining us even further. I have a long note in my phone about what I thought; I won’t spill out every last detail. But I do have a few key takeaways.
During the program, scenes of my life up to this point flashed before me: playing under that pine tree at recess in Elementary school; that day in 7th grade English class when we all shared our speeches; laughing with friends in our usual spot before school in the mornings; and sitting with friends in the art room, feeling at home. My life truly has been wonderful, despite the hardships brought by this and other things. But we’re getting through this, together apart. And I am so blessed to have friends to share this experience with, even though we’re miles away. I can’t wait to have lunch with them again and share crazy stories from this crazy time with them.
LeBron James said something beautiful: Essentially, he told us we will determine how we rebuild our communities. The future is in our hands, ours for shaping, in a way never given to graduating classes before us.
I was also reminded why I am writing this narrative as it’s happening. This is truly a story that defines us—it must be told.
So why am I telling it, of all people? I sincerely hope I’m not the only one, and I highly doubt I am. It shouldn’t just be me. The more stories that come out of this, the more we will learn. The more stories that come out of this, the more we’ll come together and understand that we all share the same common pain and suffering and joy. Perhaps we’ll understand better what we each go through, and what we’re all tough enough to get through. Perhaps the more stories we hear, the less confused and lost we will be.
Whatever you would like to add to my list, I think we can agree that the more stories that come out of this time, the better. I strongly believe one of the biggest reasons stories are told is to bridge the gap between one’s experience and another’s. It’s one of the biggest reasons why I write, anyway.
So again, why me? I’m just doing my part. You do yours.
Additionally, I am going to add just a final word to my statement from Tuesday and Thursday: Onward and upward, together.
Friday, May 15
Today was a good day. While it’s not how I wanted my summer to be 3 months ago, it’s how I want my summer to be if this quarantine lasts through it.
It started with me talking with my girlfriend on the phone. We decided to start talking in the morning, too, after a deep conversation last night. Starting and ending my day talking with her will help bring a spark of joy to both ends of my day, now, and will also help establish more routine than previously had.
I then watched YouTube videos for a while. I played an old Mario game downstairs, before I made a can of spaghetti-o’s to split with my mom. I did some dishes.
Then I finally read, for almost an hour I think. It was so nice to escape into another world. After that, I wrote letters to people. I sent a few thank you notes to people who sent Grad cards, and sent out a few more Grad announcements. That was productive. I got 3 previously finished addressed, and 6 more completely done. There’s something nice about writing a letter, too, that just can’t be emulated by anything else in today’s society.
I wrote them at the table, which reminds me: yesterday, my mom and I removed the blue piece of painter’s tape we had put on the table to divide up our workspaces. We hadn’t used it for a while anyway, but we are also both now completely separated from it; I no longer have school, and she has been working exclusively on a card table elsewhere in the house. She says the height is better for her, ergonomically.
After writing the letters, I watered the potatoes I planted. They haven’t come up yet, but I have a feeling they will soon.
I then ate pizza with my parents for dinner, we played triominoes, and watched part of the movie, Passengers. Very deep concept. I don’t think I’d be able to handle the ending right now, since it seems rather existential and life is already too existential these days, but the little bit I watched was good. My parents and I then sung some Journey, because... well, I don’t know why.
That’s kind of neat, actually. We’re almost two months in, now. Yet still, every day is a new mini-adventure. I don’t know what each new day holds. This instability is still unpredictable, which is kind of nice. I was worried this instability that’s keeping us inside was cause over-predictability.
Rather, the Universe is still keeping me on my toes.
It started with me talking with my girlfriend on the phone. We decided to start talking in the morning, too, after a deep conversation last night. Starting and ending my day talking with her will help bring a spark of joy to both ends of my day, now, and will also help establish more routine than previously had.
I then watched YouTube videos for a while. I played an old Mario game downstairs, before I made a can of spaghetti-o’s to split with my mom. I did some dishes.
Then I finally read, for almost an hour I think. It was so nice to escape into another world. After that, I wrote letters to people. I sent a few thank you notes to people who sent Grad cards, and sent out a few more Grad announcements. That was productive. I got 3 previously finished addressed, and 6 more completely done. There’s something nice about writing a letter, too, that just can’t be emulated by anything else in today’s society.
I wrote them at the table, which reminds me: yesterday, my mom and I removed the blue piece of painter’s tape we had put on the table to divide up our workspaces. We hadn’t used it for a while anyway, but we are also both now completely separated from it; I no longer have school, and she has been working exclusively on a card table elsewhere in the house. She says the height is better for her, ergonomically.
After writing the letters, I watered the potatoes I planted. They haven’t come up yet, but I have a feeling they will soon.
I then ate pizza with my parents for dinner, we played triominoes, and watched part of the movie, Passengers. Very deep concept. I don’t think I’d be able to handle the ending right now, since it seems rather existential and life is already too existential these days, but the little bit I watched was good. My parents and I then sung some Journey, because... well, I don’t know why.
That’s kind of neat, actually. We’re almost two months in, now. Yet still, every day is a new mini-adventure. I don’t know what each new day holds. This instability is still unpredictable, which is kind of nice. I was worried this instability that’s keeping us inside was cause over-predictability.
Rather, the Universe is still keeping me on my toes.
Thursday, May 14
I was very underproductive through most of the day today, and it left me in quite a bit of a funk for a while.
I woke up this morning. Watched YouTube until the mail came. Got the mail. Looked through the mail. Laid back down to watch more YouTube, and then it was 3 o’clock. I did read a little bit after that, then wrote a card to a friend. I then spoke with my girlfriend for a little while, on the phone.
I proceeded to have somewhat of what we call a “mind-spiral”, in which a person nearly crosses the event horizon of a black hole of thoughts.
It occurred to me that I felt so unproductive, that I felt as though I had worn out my ability to be productive. I then realized I really need routine, in order to avoid feeling like a lifeless blob that plops—bursts—in and out of existence.
So I cleaned my room a bit more, then cleared off the dining room table. I ate dinner my parents made for me, then brushed my teeth. Control was momentarily restored.
However, I resolved, in order to stay somewhat in control of my surroundings, I need to get better sleep and start off with a routine tomorrow. I no longer have actual school assignments to do. But I still have things to figure out, letters to write, and other things to do to keep my mind occupied.
So again, I say onward. This time, however, I will add upward.
I woke up this morning. Watched YouTube until the mail came. Got the mail. Looked through the mail. Laid back down to watch more YouTube, and then it was 3 o’clock. I did read a little bit after that, then wrote a card to a friend. I then spoke with my girlfriend for a little while, on the phone.
I proceeded to have somewhat of what we call a “mind-spiral”, in which a person nearly crosses the event horizon of a black hole of thoughts.
It occurred to me that I felt so unproductive, that I felt as though I had worn out my ability to be productive. I then realized I really need routine, in order to avoid feeling like a lifeless blob that plops—bursts—in and out of existence.
So I cleaned my room a bit more, then cleared off the dining room table. I ate dinner my parents made for me, then brushed my teeth. Control was momentarily restored.
However, I resolved, in order to stay somewhat in control of my surroundings, I need to get better sleep and start off with a routine tomorrow. I no longer have actual school assignments to do. But I still have things to figure out, letters to write, and other things to do to keep my mind occupied.
So again, I say onward. This time, however, I will add upward.
Wednesday, May 13
I went to the dentist today with my mom. That was an experience.
When we got there, we had to call the office to tell them. They proceeded to ask a series of questions, among which were “do either of you have a fever?” “Have you been out of state in the last 14 days?” and “Have you lost your sense of smell?”. They then came out to the car to escort us inside and straight back to the rooms. The hygienist also wore face shields and they didn’t do polishings. The steps they’re taking are really quite remarkable, I think.
Later in the day, I finished up my last yearbook spread. So my time as editor-in-chief is effectively over. Of course, I still have a last round of edits to do, but for the most part that was it. I sort of felt like a switch flip at that point too, and felt like I could actually read a book from then on. Or anything else, too, for that matter; reading simply came to mind first, because it’s something I want to do a lot of this summer.
Then I completed my very last high school assignment. It’s kind of funny, actually. For my creative writing class, we were told to write a letter to our high school. I had the realization that it’s the perfectly fitting ending. I also realized I loved it all, even every awful thing. I understood, finally, what adults say when they say to enjoy your childhood, before it’s over. Nothing really changes when you’re older and it’s over. You can still have fun. But it’s such a major turning point, that the bads really do seem less bad. The bads have morphed into goods in my memory, and those goods are actively evolving into the legends that I will someday tell my own kids, right before I tell them to enjoy their childhood before it’s all over. Only I’ll be careful not to let that statement scare them, like it once always scared me.
That’s pretty remarkable, how that’s all happened.
I also started to wonder what my first high school assignment was. I came to the conclusion it was likely signing a syllabus.
When we got there, we had to call the office to tell them. They proceeded to ask a series of questions, among which were “do either of you have a fever?” “Have you been out of state in the last 14 days?” and “Have you lost your sense of smell?”. They then came out to the car to escort us inside and straight back to the rooms. The hygienist also wore face shields and they didn’t do polishings. The steps they’re taking are really quite remarkable, I think.
Later in the day, I finished up my last yearbook spread. So my time as editor-in-chief is effectively over. Of course, I still have a last round of edits to do, but for the most part that was it. I sort of felt like a switch flip at that point too, and felt like I could actually read a book from then on. Or anything else, too, for that matter; reading simply came to mind first, because it’s something I want to do a lot of this summer.
Then I completed my very last high school assignment. It’s kind of funny, actually. For my creative writing class, we were told to write a letter to our high school. I had the realization that it’s the perfectly fitting ending. I also realized I loved it all, even every awful thing. I understood, finally, what adults say when they say to enjoy your childhood, before it’s over. Nothing really changes when you’re older and it’s over. You can still have fun. But it’s such a major turning point, that the bads really do seem less bad. The bads have morphed into goods in my memory, and those goods are actively evolving into the legends that I will someday tell my own kids, right before I tell them to enjoy their childhood before it’s all over. Only I’ll be careful not to let that statement scare them, like it once always scared me.
That’s pretty remarkable, how that’s all happened.
I also started to wonder what my first high school assignment was. I came to the conclusion it was likely signing a syllabus.
Tuesday, May 12 (Night)
From here on out, I think my blog will be once a day. Two times a day was good when there was a lot to discuss; this situation was still relatively new, if not fresh, and I could make two posts worthwhile. Yet as I’m evolving through this writing as you are experiencing while reading, I feel as though I have somewhat evolved into my next phase of this project. So again: with near certainty, for the foreseeable future (two things I haven’t had enough of lately), there will be one post a day.
Last night, as I was drifting to sleep, I did some reflecting on high school. I’ve done a lot of that over these past few months, of course, but I really am finishing up. I’ve sort of even come to terms with it—almost.
I have one more yearbook spread to finish up, and looking at the one I finished last night, I realized how proud I am of the yearbook this year, and the work my coeditor and I have done and put into every page of it.
Then I realized how I really have left a legacy. I recently wrote a letter to my girlfriend, that, in part, detailed my journey through high school. It’s just been occurring to me lately how non-traditional my approach was. I wasn’t always in the limelight; in fact I definitely took the back way in, behind the scenes. I didn’t actively try to leave a legacy, yet I knew I wanted to, and only semi-consciously made choices that led me to that point. I just did what I thought was fun and felt right, and I ended up in the right place.
I learned about myself that if I truly put my mind to something, I do it. Just as the old saying goes too; when God shuts a door, He opens a window. I didn’t consciously work to leave a legacy: I consciously worked to do good, and the legacy was a wonderful byproduct.
And along the way: My coeditor and I created a meaningful yearbook for my graduating class, perhaps the best in several years; I will be a significant part of my graduating class’ final high school moment; and I helped create a committee that made student voices better represented and heard in the school district.
I’m proud and beyond content.
I also voted for the very first time today. I think (and hope) I made the pollworkers’ days, being so young and prepared. I forgot we were all wearing masks, in fact.
I also find the natural juxtaposition that occurred between the reflections of high school, and voting less than twelve hours later, to be quite fascinating.
Onward.
Last night, as I was drifting to sleep, I did some reflecting on high school. I’ve done a lot of that over these past few months, of course, but I really am finishing up. I’ve sort of even come to terms with it—almost.
I have one more yearbook spread to finish up, and looking at the one I finished last night, I realized how proud I am of the yearbook this year, and the work my coeditor and I have done and put into every page of it.
Then I realized how I really have left a legacy. I recently wrote a letter to my girlfriend, that, in part, detailed my journey through high school. It’s just been occurring to me lately how non-traditional my approach was. I wasn’t always in the limelight; in fact I definitely took the back way in, behind the scenes. I didn’t actively try to leave a legacy, yet I knew I wanted to, and only semi-consciously made choices that led me to that point. I just did what I thought was fun and felt right, and I ended up in the right place.
I learned about myself that if I truly put my mind to something, I do it. Just as the old saying goes too; when God shuts a door, He opens a window. I didn’t consciously work to leave a legacy: I consciously worked to do good, and the legacy was a wonderful byproduct.
And along the way: My coeditor and I created a meaningful yearbook for my graduating class, perhaps the best in several years; I will be a significant part of my graduating class’ final high school moment; and I helped create a committee that made student voices better represented and heard in the school district.
I’m proud and beyond content.
I also voted for the very first time today. I think (and hope) I made the pollworkers’ days, being so young and prepared. I forgot we were all wearing masks, in fact.
I also find the natural juxtaposition that occurred between the reflections of high school, and voting less than twelve hours later, to be quite fascinating.
Onward.
Monday, May 11 (Night)
This weekend was very nice.
Friday I said some “goodbyes” to teachers. I put it in quotes because I don’t think it’s really goodbye. It was also a nice day for a walk, so I went on one with my mom. I had more yearbook dreams, and also heard a lovely new song by Ben Platt. My girlfriend sent it to me, and the chorus contained lyrics I needed to hear:
“That the sky will still be up there
And the sun will always shine
The stars will keep on falling
For the ones who wish at night
The mountains won't start moving
And the rivers won't run dry
The world will always be there
And so will I”
Fitting, right?
Saturday, I went to Home Depot with my dad. That was a trippy experience. Having to wait in line, even for just the three minutes we did, was something I’ve never done at Home Depot. It felt apocalyptic, too. Wearing the mask, I think the CO2 I was breathing out was burning my eyes. That was trippy too, but in a less exciting day. We also went to eat at the restaurant where he works. We figured there would be safest, since he knows what precautions are being taken. It was nice to see everyone there, too. That restaurant has always been like a second home to me. We even sat in the same booth I slept in once as a young child.
Getting out to see my second home again was nice. Seeing as I hadn’t been there in several months, it was certainly a nice change of scenery from the brown walls of my home.
Sunday, I felt a bit more connected with nature. I saw that our cardinals had laid eggs in our front bush. We can see them from our front window. There were either five or six in there. My parents decided to name them after my great grandfather and great grandmother, who have both passed away over the past few years. I also spent time with the potato plants I planted last week, and we went and visited my grandparents in their driveway for Mother’s Day.
Then today was a very good day. I tried out for keynote speaker at graduation. I was somewhat surprised when they told me later in the day I was given the honor! That truly made my day.
I also took my AP Government exam. I can’t say anything about it naturally, except I feel as though I did well.
Then this evening, I baked brownies.
Taking time away from this blog was nice. It gave me time to reflect and really take things in. But I’m also glad to be back, to share these experiences. We’re in this together, after all.
The World will get through this, I have no doubt. The bigger question that’s on my mind now, is when?
Friday I said some “goodbyes” to teachers. I put it in quotes because I don’t think it’s really goodbye. It was also a nice day for a walk, so I went on one with my mom. I had more yearbook dreams, and also heard a lovely new song by Ben Platt. My girlfriend sent it to me, and the chorus contained lyrics I needed to hear:
“That the sky will still be up there
And the sun will always shine
The stars will keep on falling
For the ones who wish at night
The mountains won't start moving
And the rivers won't run dry
The world will always be there
And so will I”
Fitting, right?
Saturday, I went to Home Depot with my dad. That was a trippy experience. Having to wait in line, even for just the three minutes we did, was something I’ve never done at Home Depot. It felt apocalyptic, too. Wearing the mask, I think the CO2 I was breathing out was burning my eyes. That was trippy too, but in a less exciting day. We also went to eat at the restaurant where he works. We figured there would be safest, since he knows what precautions are being taken. It was nice to see everyone there, too. That restaurant has always been like a second home to me. We even sat in the same booth I slept in once as a young child.
Getting out to see my second home again was nice. Seeing as I hadn’t been there in several months, it was certainly a nice change of scenery from the brown walls of my home.
Sunday, I felt a bit more connected with nature. I saw that our cardinals had laid eggs in our front bush. We can see them from our front window. There were either five or six in there. My parents decided to name them after my great grandfather and great grandmother, who have both passed away over the past few years. I also spent time with the potato plants I planted last week, and we went and visited my grandparents in their driveway for Mother’s Day.
Then today was a very good day. I tried out for keynote speaker at graduation. I was somewhat surprised when they told me later in the day I was given the honor! That truly made my day.
I also took my AP Government exam. I can’t say anything about it naturally, except I feel as though I did well.
Then this evening, I baked brownies.
Taking time away from this blog was nice. It gave me time to reflect and really take things in. But I’m also glad to be back, to share these experiences. We’re in this together, after all.
The World will get through this, I have no doubt. The bigger question that’s on my mind now, is when?
Thursday, May 7 (NigHt)
Today was... interesting.
It rained lightly most of the day, which kind of matched the mood. I started to feel anxious, for reasons I don’t entirely understand.
I was more productive, but I think I just came to the realization that there is still so much to do before I’m done.
Don’t misunderstand: I would’ve loved more time in high school, and this situation took away moments I earned that I can never get back. But now that I’m nearing the end, I don’t want the world to dwell. I don’t want to have to turn in more work this week, then take AP exams, then go back to turn in books and whatnot the week after, and then still be waiting on graduation.
From some aspects, my senior year may not be over until the last weekend in July. Yet I’m also living as a rising college freshman. My life has become a contradiction.
I did, however, talk with one of my grandmas today. That was a pleasant call, especially since I haven’t talked to her too much lately.
I also feel bad now, because my anxiety got worse as the evening went on, and I feel I was rude toward my parents.
To ease my anxiety, I took a relaxing bath. And now I’ve concluded I may take a break from this blog for a few days, so I can get all of my stuff together, figure some things out, tie up some loose ends, and then really re-dedicate my focus and energy to it.
Check back in a few days.
It rained lightly most of the day, which kind of matched the mood. I started to feel anxious, for reasons I don’t entirely understand.
I was more productive, but I think I just came to the realization that there is still so much to do before I’m done.
Don’t misunderstand: I would’ve loved more time in high school, and this situation took away moments I earned that I can never get back. But now that I’m nearing the end, I don’t want the world to dwell. I don’t want to have to turn in more work this week, then take AP exams, then go back to turn in books and whatnot the week after, and then still be waiting on graduation.
From some aspects, my senior year may not be over until the last weekend in July. Yet I’m also living as a rising college freshman. My life has become a contradiction.
I did, however, talk with one of my grandmas today. That was a pleasant call, especially since I haven’t talked to her too much lately.
I also feel bad now, because my anxiety got worse as the evening went on, and I feel I was rude toward my parents.
To ease my anxiety, I took a relaxing bath. And now I’ve concluded I may take a break from this blog for a few days, so I can get all of my stuff together, figure some things out, tie up some loose ends, and then really re-dedicate my focus and energy to it.
Check back in a few days.
Thursday, May 7 (Morning)
I did not have any nightmare last night, although I did dream about school. Kind of. It was certainly a school, and it had people from school, but it wasn’t exactly my school.
I have one of my very last calls for school in about 15 minutes. It’s so terribly sad. There will be goodbyes. For some people, that could be the last time I’ll ever see them, as much as I hate to say it.
Because—in spite of being redundant—I say again: this is no way to end a senior year in high school. Those goodbyes, to people I may never see again, I’m not even really seeing them.
I also came to the conclusion last night, along with my girlfriend, people who have been struggling with this, have been handling this, mainly in two different ways, I feel like. Some people have been really up and down, on more of a roller coaster than ever before. Others have been more “stable”, for lack of a better term, but stably subpar. Of course, there are those that are living their best life through this—I do not claim to speak for everyone. Those people are valid in their own right, too.
I just find the psychology that will come out of this so very interesting.
I have one of my very last calls for school in about 15 minutes. It’s so terribly sad. There will be goodbyes. For some people, that could be the last time I’ll ever see them, as much as I hate to say it.
Because—in spite of being redundant—I say again: this is no way to end a senior year in high school. Those goodbyes, to people I may never see again, I’m not even really seeing them.
I also came to the conclusion last night, along with my girlfriend, people who have been struggling with this, have been handling this, mainly in two different ways, I feel like. Some people have been really up and down, on more of a roller coaster than ever before. Others have been more “stable”, for lack of a better term, but stably subpar. Of course, there are those that are living their best life through this—I do not claim to speak for everyone. Those people are valid in their own right, too.
I just find the psychology that will come out of this so very interesting.
Wednesday, May 6 (Night)
Today was slightly more productive than yesterday. I just need to get back into routine.
I also had the realization that, in this time, I’ve come into a state of purgatory, in which I don’t want to work on school work anymore (partially due to senioritis, partially due to this shutdown), but I don’t want to start my summer goals and projects, because I know I still have school work to do. I’m glad I came to that realization, though—it’ll get easier with that in mind.
I also am starting to notice I’ve been blogging less and less about the global pandemic and its effects, and more about my struggles with graduating. But I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Right now, they are unfortunately going hand-in-hand; you can not have one without the other. The fate of the class of 2020 is, and forever shall be, tied to the Coronavirus and its effects, both immediate and reverberating.
So no, I’m not going to keep reporting numbers and morbid details like a news agency. I’m not a news agency. Like you, the numbers and statistics depress me. I am a high schooler. They say write what you know. So I am.
I’ve also pondered: what is the plot of my story here? More importantly: where is it heading?
The only sound conclusion I can come up with is: I don’t know yet. Perhaps my plot is my realization and coming to terms with the fact that this is my life, whether I like it or not. Perhaps it’s simply my struggles, and overcoming them—along with the rest of the world all at once—even if those struggles don’t seem so big in the moment.
This is not some fantastic, one-of-a-kind, unique story. It is in fact, human. It’s the story of every high school senior across America, to a varying degree. We are all going through these same, terrible struggles, no matter how mundane they sound when put from pen to paper. Behind every word, there is a tale of heartache and suffering, nearly bursting at its seems.
I am convinced—that is exactly my plot and my purpose, and why this story must be told.
I do not know where this plot will lead me, but I know up until this point, it’s been quite an adventure. I also know it’s an immensely important plot to tell. And that’s good enough to know for today.
I also had the realization that, in this time, I’ve come into a state of purgatory, in which I don’t want to work on school work anymore (partially due to senioritis, partially due to this shutdown), but I don’t want to start my summer goals and projects, because I know I still have school work to do. I’m glad I came to that realization, though—it’ll get easier with that in mind.
I also am starting to notice I’ve been blogging less and less about the global pandemic and its effects, and more about my struggles with graduating. But I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Right now, they are unfortunately going hand-in-hand; you can not have one without the other. The fate of the class of 2020 is, and forever shall be, tied to the Coronavirus and its effects, both immediate and reverberating.
So no, I’m not going to keep reporting numbers and morbid details like a news agency. I’m not a news agency. Like you, the numbers and statistics depress me. I am a high schooler. They say write what you know. So I am.
I’ve also pondered: what is the plot of my story here? More importantly: where is it heading?
The only sound conclusion I can come up with is: I don’t know yet. Perhaps my plot is my realization and coming to terms with the fact that this is my life, whether I like it or not. Perhaps it’s simply my struggles, and overcoming them—along with the rest of the world all at once—even if those struggles don’t seem so big in the moment.
This is not some fantastic, one-of-a-kind, unique story. It is in fact, human. It’s the story of every high school senior across America, to a varying degree. We are all going through these same, terrible struggles, no matter how mundane they sound when put from pen to paper. Behind every word, there is a tale of heartache and suffering, nearly bursting at its seems.
I am convinced—that is exactly my plot and my purpose, and why this story must be told.
I do not know where this plot will lead me, but I know up until this point, it’s been quite an adventure. I also know it’s an immensely important plot to tell. And that’s good enough to know for today.
Wednesday, May 6 (Morning)
It was very windy all day yesterday, and I believe there’s a full moon today—it was shining down upon me bright as I drifted to sleep early this morning.
I have had dreams go awry for three nights in a row, now, I believe.
Last night, I dreamt I had to get a ride home from a yearbook event from a friend. She took me back to her house, and then her sister (who, in real life, is not actually her sister) drove me the rest of the way. I was in the backseat, while my friend and her sister were in the front. Many wrong turns were made, first on streets I recognized, then, I believe, on streets that do not exist. It got frustrating, and at one point, I’m pretty sure that while I was still myself in the dream, I was seeing it from the view of the sister driving. At another point, my friend turned into my history teacher.
I think that day way back in March, when I drove in the rain left me more frazzled than I originally thought.
I think I’m missing school, and don’t want my time with the yearbook to be over. It nearly defined my senior year, after all.
I also think I’m not used to being this out of control of any situation.
And through it all, a small part of me just wants to live out my life like Peter Pan.
I have had dreams go awry for three nights in a row, now, I believe.
Last night, I dreamt I had to get a ride home from a yearbook event from a friend. She took me back to her house, and then her sister (who, in real life, is not actually her sister) drove me the rest of the way. I was in the backseat, while my friend and her sister were in the front. Many wrong turns were made, first on streets I recognized, then, I believe, on streets that do not exist. It got frustrating, and at one point, I’m pretty sure that while I was still myself in the dream, I was seeing it from the view of the sister driving. At another point, my friend turned into my history teacher.
I think that day way back in March, when I drove in the rain left me more frazzled than I originally thought.
I think I’m missing school, and don’t want my time with the yearbook to be over. It nearly defined my senior year, after all.
I also think I’m not used to being this out of control of any situation.
And through it all, a small part of me just wants to live out my life like Peter Pan.
Tuesday, May 5 (Night)
Today I felt emotional. I don’t know why exactly. Perhaps it’s a combination of being tired and it being my true last week as a high schooler.
My personal yearbook work will be done soon. Exciting, but emotional. I have some goodbyes this week, too, which will also be emotional. But I suppose if I follow through with my plan to teach at my high school someday, it’s not really goodbye to the teachers. And I know I won’t lose touch with friends, as much as I fear it and worry about it. That really has evolved into one of my greater fears, perhaps even surpassing the fear of running out of time. Maybe because I already have.
If that’s the case, I suppose running out of time wasn’t too terrible. It’s been an emotional ride lately, but I think the blow was reduced by the fact that it was so unexpected. It has still been hard, though, and if I were still physically in school, I think I’d be having an even harder time.
Today, the President announced the Coronavirus task force will begin winding down. Now I’m not here to talk politics; however, despite not being an expert, I think that’s a bad idea. The trend is beginning to flatten out, but the number of new cases remains at over 20,000 per day. Regardless of whatever they decide is best, I think the task force should at least remain in place to help make those decisions. I suppose the administration clarified there will still be an advisory group, just in a different form, and a lot could change in the span of a few weeks.
I just still think everything is happening too quickly.
We’re at over 72,000 total deaths. Those are lives we cannot get back. And the country as a whole is starting to back down from the fight of our generation.
My personal yearbook work will be done soon. Exciting, but emotional. I have some goodbyes this week, too, which will also be emotional. But I suppose if I follow through with my plan to teach at my high school someday, it’s not really goodbye to the teachers. And I know I won’t lose touch with friends, as much as I fear it and worry about it. That really has evolved into one of my greater fears, perhaps even surpassing the fear of running out of time. Maybe because I already have.
If that’s the case, I suppose running out of time wasn’t too terrible. It’s been an emotional ride lately, but I think the blow was reduced by the fact that it was so unexpected. It has still been hard, though, and if I were still physically in school, I think I’d be having an even harder time.
Today, the President announced the Coronavirus task force will begin winding down. Now I’m not here to talk politics; however, despite not being an expert, I think that’s a bad idea. The trend is beginning to flatten out, but the number of new cases remains at over 20,000 per day. Regardless of whatever they decide is best, I think the task force should at least remain in place to help make those decisions. I suppose the administration clarified there will still be an advisory group, just in a different form, and a lot could change in the span of a few weeks.
I just still think everything is happening too quickly.
We’re at over 72,000 total deaths. Those are lives we cannot get back. And the country as a whole is starting to back down from the fight of our generation.
Tuesday, May 5 (Morning)
I am very tired. I must not have slept well, because I was mostly asleep from 12:30 to 9:30, and that’s a lot of sleep for me. Usually my body only asks 7 hours of me, and then I wake up. That’s usually awful though, when I just want to sleep longer.
I did have a nightmare last night. For some reason, I got to see my girlfriend and be inside her house, which for some reason, was actually my house (the peculiar nature of dreams, yeah?). We kissed goodbye in dream-land, and as I walked out the door, I started to cry. For some reason, I was extremely sad I wasn’t driving her home. Perhaps I knew it was actually my house in real life, but I think it all boiled down to the fact that staying away is hard.
The crying felt real.
Then, my car was haunted, I screamed in the dream, and then woke up into reality. It wasn’t as if I was startled up, though; it was as if I just wanted out of it so badly, so I forced myself awake.
If only I could force myself out of this nightmare, that has become a reality.
One should not have to keep distance from the person one loves. I understand it’s necessary, and I will continue to do so, but more than anything, I wish I didn’t have to. If I had that one connection, the lack of others would seem more manageable than they do right now.
I did have a nightmare last night. For some reason, I got to see my girlfriend and be inside her house, which for some reason, was actually my house (the peculiar nature of dreams, yeah?). We kissed goodbye in dream-land, and as I walked out the door, I started to cry. For some reason, I was extremely sad I wasn’t driving her home. Perhaps I knew it was actually my house in real life, but I think it all boiled down to the fact that staying away is hard.
The crying felt real.
Then, my car was haunted, I screamed in the dream, and then woke up into reality. It wasn’t as if I was startled up, though; it was as if I just wanted out of it so badly, so I forced myself awake.
If only I could force myself out of this nightmare, that has become a reality.
One should not have to keep distance from the person one loves. I understand it’s necessary, and I will continue to do so, but more than anything, I wish I didn’t have to. If I had that one connection, the lack of others would seem more manageable than they do right now.
Monday, May 4 (Night)
I read a work of fiction fully for myself for the first time since last Summer.
Every year, around this time, I feel like important things seem to happen for me. That is no different.
Six years ago, I was with family on this day when I decided to follow Christ. During 8th Grade, around this time, I was awarded for an essay contest, and my future goals changed from engineering-focused to writing- and teaching-focused. Last year, prom was on this day, which also happened to be one of my first dates with my girlfriend. And now here we are, today, nothing different in that regard, just as I said.
I read for myself today, sure. But I also submitted my deposit for college. With a mindless click of a button after typing in some numbers, I am now officially enrolled for fall semester of college. It’s weird, this growing up and adulting thing. I also signed some sort of insurance form the other day.
My status before the law is slowly evolving, with each step I take, from minor to adult. I feel that sense of—pride, fear, responsibility, mourning, whatever it is—getting bigger with each step, as well. It’s such a unique, reflective feeling I can’t quite put into words, but caused by this change I both do and don’t want to make, know I must make (despite it being a change from everything I’ve ever known) and am hopeless to stop, even if I wanted to, because it’s such a part of life.
Weird.
Meanwhile, my dad’s first day back to work went relatively smooth. He said there were very few customers, and it almost felt like the twilight zone, just because it had that eerie sense of difference to it. But overall, it was much less anxiety-inducing than he thought it would be. Despite the endless possibilities of what could’ve happened, it was okay. Just like I hope those around me all will be.
When he got home, he came inside and showered almost right away. It’s what must be done. Then this evening, before he went to bed, he said “I’ll see you in the morning,” before hesitating. “Or not.” It made me sad, too.
Just as I had predicted: now we’re heading into a new new normal, and it’s challenging us just as well as the last new normal.
Every year, around this time, I feel like important things seem to happen for me. That is no different.
Six years ago, I was with family on this day when I decided to follow Christ. During 8th Grade, around this time, I was awarded for an essay contest, and my future goals changed from engineering-focused to writing- and teaching-focused. Last year, prom was on this day, which also happened to be one of my first dates with my girlfriend. And now here we are, today, nothing different in that regard, just as I said.
I read for myself today, sure. But I also submitted my deposit for college. With a mindless click of a button after typing in some numbers, I am now officially enrolled for fall semester of college. It’s weird, this growing up and adulting thing. I also signed some sort of insurance form the other day.
My status before the law is slowly evolving, with each step I take, from minor to adult. I feel that sense of—pride, fear, responsibility, mourning, whatever it is—getting bigger with each step, as well. It’s such a unique, reflective feeling I can’t quite put into words, but caused by this change I both do and don’t want to make, know I must make (despite it being a change from everything I’ve ever known) and am hopeless to stop, even if I wanted to, because it’s such a part of life.
Weird.
Meanwhile, my dad’s first day back to work went relatively smooth. He said there were very few customers, and it almost felt like the twilight zone, just because it had that eerie sense of difference to it. But overall, it was much less anxiety-inducing than he thought it would be. Despite the endless possibilities of what could’ve happened, it was okay. Just like I hope those around me all will be.
When he got home, he came inside and showered almost right away. It’s what must be done. Then this evening, before he went to bed, he said “I’ll see you in the morning,” before hesitating. “Or not.” It made me sad, too.
Just as I had predicted: now we’re heading into a new new normal, and it’s challenging us just as well as the last new normal.
Monday, May 4 (Mid-Morning)
It was raining when I woke up this morning. It will not have stopped raining by the time I go to bed tonight, according to the forecast.
Also according to the forecast, it will rain four out of the next ten days, with high temperatures right around 70.
I absolutely love this weather, but it’s coming later than usual. I’m not complaining—I don’t care much for the hot and humid Midwest summers. It just almost feels like Mother Nature held it back for us. We missed important stuff, months out of the year, so it seems as if the weather is trying to keep those months around for us, and trying to help us make up for last time.
If only we could.
Maybe April showers in May will bring May flowers in June.
Also according to the forecast, it will rain four out of the next ten days, with high temperatures right around 70.
I absolutely love this weather, but it’s coming later than usual. I’m not complaining—I don’t care much for the hot and humid Midwest summers. It just almost feels like Mother Nature held it back for us. We missed important stuff, months out of the year, so it seems as if the weather is trying to keep those months around for us, and trying to help us make up for last time.
If only we could.
Maybe April showers in May will bring May flowers in June.
Sunday, May 3 (Almost Midnight)
Today was a good, do-nothing kind of day. Except some stuff was done I suppose: we watched church, we did some good ant-battling, we went and got sandwiches for lunch, I cleaned my room a significant amount, and all the while I still chilled with both my parents, but especially my dad, and we got three movies watched (in the background, anyway). They were the National Lampoon vacation movies, because they were running a marathon on TV.
Despite sleeping in a bit, today was the first time in a while the day seemed to last. It wasn’t over in the blink of an eye. I missed that. I also realized how much, lately, while the days seem to be breezing by, they each seem very isolated and singular. I mean that they don’t seem to flow together. Things that happened just two or three days ago seem like they happened a week or more ago.
Church also had a nice message today: we can wait. As the Israelites spent 40 years in the wilderness, and Jesus spent 40 days, we can wait just a little bit longer. We can do this: we are fully capable and strong and patient. We just have to follow through.
Yet my dad also goes back to work tomorrow. That certainly overshadowed the day, but not in a bad way, necessarily. We talked through it a lot, and made plans. But we also made sure to spend time together and relax.
All will be well—we’re just entering a new sub-“Normal”. You’ll notice, too, I’ve started putting quotes around my use of the word, “normal”. That is because my pastor pointed out to me the other day, when she dropped off the Bible for me, that there really is no normal, even during “normal” times. She also brought up how maybe new traditions will come of this.
An interesting thought to ponder, certainly.
Hopefully my dreams are more normal tonight, too.
Despite sleeping in a bit, today was the first time in a while the day seemed to last. It wasn’t over in the blink of an eye. I missed that. I also realized how much, lately, while the days seem to be breezing by, they each seem very isolated and singular. I mean that they don’t seem to flow together. Things that happened just two or three days ago seem like they happened a week or more ago.
Church also had a nice message today: we can wait. As the Israelites spent 40 years in the wilderness, and Jesus spent 40 days, we can wait just a little bit longer. We can do this: we are fully capable and strong and patient. We just have to follow through.
Yet my dad also goes back to work tomorrow. That certainly overshadowed the day, but not in a bad way, necessarily. We talked through it a lot, and made plans. But we also made sure to spend time together and relax.
All will be well—we’re just entering a new sub-“Normal”. You’ll notice, too, I’ve started putting quotes around my use of the word, “normal”. That is because my pastor pointed out to me the other day, when she dropped off the Bible for me, that there really is no normal, even during “normal” times. She also brought up how maybe new traditions will come of this.
An interesting thought to ponder, certainly.
Hopefully my dreams are more normal tonight, too.
Sunday, May 3 (Morning)
I had an awful dream last night. Through someone asking my age, I realized it took place in a little over a year and a half. The winter was warm. This was still going on. And the country had fallen into a more regular pattern of violence and chaos.
We’ve just now had our deadliest 24 hours in the United States, according to the WHO.
Why aren’t we staying home now, in order to prevent the lengthening of this awful nightmare?
We’ve just now had our deadliest 24 hours in the United States, according to the WHO.
Why aren’t we staying home now, in order to prevent the lengthening of this awful nightmare?
Saturday, May 2 (Night)
Today was largely uneventful. It felt normal, on the whole.
I slept in, which was nice. My mom shared this blog this morning, and my dad read it from beginning to end. He (and many other people) enjoyed it a lot, which was really nice to hear. Thank you all!
I also received a very nice graduation gift from my pastor today: a study bible. It is a gift I will carry with me and cherish for many years.
My dad and I got donuts this morning too. Come to think of it, I think donuts have been the extent of my meals today. Hmm. I certainly hope I don’t pay for that later.
Especially since my dad goes back to work on Monday, I have to start making sure I’m eating decently well. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still splurge and eat how I want. I’ll just make sure I don’t have just donuts in a day.
In other news, I can confirm that the cardinals are nesting in our front bush. They are cute, and I’m sure their hatchlings will be someday in the relatively near future, too.
And a final sure sign that spring is here: we have ants. I swear we’re cursed by them. Our house is clean and we do everything we can to get rid of them. They just always come up.
I know I didn’t have much of substance to say about today—that is a curse of my weekends. I don’t go out much even when things are “normal”. So playing games and watching three movies with my parents isn’t that out of the ordinary.
Perhaps I’ll have more interesting things to say again tomorrow.
I slept in, which was nice. My mom shared this blog this morning, and my dad read it from beginning to end. He (and many other people) enjoyed it a lot, which was really nice to hear. Thank you all!
I also received a very nice graduation gift from my pastor today: a study bible. It is a gift I will carry with me and cherish for many years.
My dad and I got donuts this morning too. Come to think of it, I think donuts have been the extent of my meals today. Hmm. I certainly hope I don’t pay for that later.
Especially since my dad goes back to work on Monday, I have to start making sure I’m eating decently well. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still splurge and eat how I want. I’ll just make sure I don’t have just donuts in a day.
In other news, I can confirm that the cardinals are nesting in our front bush. They are cute, and I’m sure their hatchlings will be someday in the relatively near future, too.
And a final sure sign that spring is here: we have ants. I swear we’re cursed by them. Our house is clean and we do everything we can to get rid of them. They just always come up.
I know I didn’t have much of substance to say about today—that is a curse of my weekends. I don’t go out much even when things are “normal”. So playing games and watching three movies with my parents isn’t that out of the ordinary.
Perhaps I’ll have more interesting things to say again tomorrow.