Written by Jacob Ibrag
I’m not sure where this is going. Everyone seems to have a clear opinion on the recent happenings. And to be honest, I don’t really know how to think about any of this.
I feel helpless, an emotion that seems to have made a home in me. I keep thinking about my loved ones. I keep thinking about everything I’ve neglected, like writing.
This virus feels like a wake up call. It’s like this nagging alarm clock that’s burrowed its way into my eardrums. And I would love to say that I have finally awoken, but that doesn’t seem to be true. I’m on autopilot mode, watching myself continuously walk into a closed door. I’m not even sure what’s on the other side, but I have this built in need to get there.
There are these responsibilities we all had and still have. There is an…
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