Quarantined with My Thoughts: A Think-Piece Reaction to COVID-19

It’s no secret that some thoughts and emotions are too big to be encapsulated in anything but big, poetic gestures. Well, at least that’s how it is for me. 


In the midst of current events, I took a week and wrote down my pandemic thoughts as a thought-piece to try and bring peace to myself where there was always only panic. 




I’m laying here, helpless.

I barely know how to help myself.

But it’s not all about me.



I’m being affected.

My international travel plans are being jeopardized.

At least I still have a home.

I’d say I’m cautiously optimistic.

But, the only precautions people take are ravaging shelves for rations.



My college that I love so much is closing its doors.

Forget higher education.

Let’s elevate the uncertainty. 

Teach the futures of the world.

Teach them how to not plan for pandemics, 

catering our courses on an online platter instead.


Feast your eyes:

The heart of the media is fake news and sensationalist stories.

I can’t work on my journalism stories right now.

But give me a front-row seat to this gold mine of gold diggers, 

looking to excavate the biggest rumor about our hellscape.


hellscape? escape? scapegoat? 


Somebody’s got to be to blame. 

And maybe it makes sense to blame the president,

You know… the one who fired a crisis team and never replaced them.

It takes two I’s to spell that: CRISIS.

But the only I’s that concern them are the two we shouldn’t be rubbing on our faces. 




“It’s not worse than the flu,” they say, 

As the world, and all its flaws, are in flux.

But enough about me.


The world’s full of hot air, all talk.

But air’s getting thin from people who speak on issues, 

not to hear responses…

but the sound of their own 




Maybe the masks 

people are buying in excess could help muffle 

the panic-inducing, 





Institutions that stood resolute are destitute.

We can’t run the world by ourselves.

It’s hard to take humans at face value and see mistakes.


Put our faith in humanity? 


I’m straining to do that; 

maybe this strain’s the worst.




It was announced:

all restaurants and bars in Illinois would close for servers.

That means the way they put food on their own tables, 

by putting food on ours, 

is no longer an option. 

As for social distancing, 

drinkers find space between alcohol and their lips to be too far,

so they risk the kiss of death to get a little drunk.

The ignorance is intoxicating.




People love to chastise one another for doing too much or not enough.

Quarantined: there is nothing to do except 

everything that’s not enough as we’re urged to sit idle. 

I made it a goal to find one positive social media post and spread it like wildfire. 

Life will continue to show you what you look for.

So, I dig for a dose of positivity.

I hope that it may bring a permanent prescription; 

I’m trying to get hooked on happiness. 




I woke up to rain pitter-pattering on my roof.

I know it’s not enough to soak the whole world, 

but it felt like a cleanse.

The after-rain smell seeped into my lungs 

as I stepped outside for the first time in three days.

It’s been hard—

to inhale deeply and exhale without a sigh of despair lately.

Today, I did it. 

And that’s all we can do. Take today for what it is.




It was announced that all of Illinois would go on lockdown—

5 p.m. the following day,

restaurants still offering take-out and delivery

deliver us from the distress of the world.




Another day spent cocooned on my couch

Losing track of days I’ve been home

Plethora of shows to immerse myself in…

Trying to avoid Black Mirror, though

We’re already living it.




Ventured outside to get groceries—

I witnessed several people

frantically tying fresh produce bags around their hands as makeshift gloves

Shifty looks given to grocers stocking shelves…

Who knows where his hands have been?

Been hard to put ourselves in other people’s shoes lately

Because we’re told to stay six feet from everyone

Getting ready to check out,

People fell dutifully in evenly-dispersed lines

Militant and trying to buy milk.




Sunday was sad.

We usually go to Grandma and Grandpa’s for dinner.

It’s been a Sunday kind of love,

for as long as I can remember.

I spent that time thinking about all those who’ll need a place setting

With an empty chair at the end of all this.


These are just some of my thoughts. But with that being said, keep those you love in your own because we can’t hold them in our arms. Stay safe.