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How is the coronavirus pandemic affecting your life right now? Tell us about your experiences, feelings, and thoughts.

this is complicated since I'm doing the math of steady rises in cases on the east coast and midwestern states adjacent to us here in NYC and I've estimated that I will have to stay indoors for the next 2 years, and hopefully will no longer be the spirit of the cursed prophet Cassandra and have to once again make the choice of dragging my half rotting body to the mountaintops to scream against a backdrop of chaos for the sake of dying with fire in my lungs or if I just finally release myself from this voluntary show and go quietly into the night since the society I have been forced into doesn't care about me, and the novel times I hoped to be alive for, will just be fictional hopes from generations before me. If anything I am reminded of the generations after the wars waged in other countries, where children were robbed of their chances to dream. Children now may never see beaches, be outside for hours, see sunsets, see trees, they will not dream. They will grieve as I am for the things that will never be, that were promised generation after generation only to become a debt for the impulsivity of people who had their heydays, who saw the sun and laughed, who had children, who had money and a place to live and yet they just keep punching the future in the face with their immovable stances on how to do things the right way. It is no longer safe to think of a tomorrow, or a day outside in the world. Maybe dedicating my moments of robbed adulthood to the dark academia of studying death could be of use, or maybe just accepting the fact I was never meant to live gaily would be better. I am unsure what is the point of our continuation to hope if not for the sake of screaming into the nothingness. I am starting to believe in the theories of the universe being the corpse of a long-forgotten ancient diety and we are all just growing ecosystems of life, profiting off their physical absence. Strange that I was bargained into not believing in a just death for myself was not an option, but all I have lucked out on is dying with a cold calloused world of the global north setting itself on fire, and dooming what they could not conquer with it. We are all but crabs climbing on one another to avoid an assuredly painful death. I wonder what will become of the idea of a future. Will, there be the idea of dreaming again. Will nights be filled with the hum of hope again? Will the songs of dark times no longer keep us company? I do not know, all I do know is the scriptures of our history do not rhyme, they repeat themselves into prophecies, and we are all fools for believing in the notions of dead ghosts.