Category: COVID-19, Politics, Social Justice Issues and More
In my series “Life During COVID-19” I discuss what’s happening in my life and how the pandemic affects me, the U.S., and the world. I also reflect on politics, social justice issues, and national or world news.
NaNoWriMo is here, and for the first time in six months, I’ve decided not to work on a novel this month. Instead, I’m putting together a poetry collection of at least 10k words. I don’t like the idea of assigning a word count to a poetry collection, but it is a good place to start.
So far, the word count is around 356, and I’ve started on four poems. What I like about this idea is that I want to push my poetry into a new direction, more prose-like and with a storyline like a vignette or a novella-type creation.
While I’m working on this, I’ve been reading Dorianne Laux’s Finger Exercises for Poets, and it’s already helped me explore new ways to compile fragments of poems and build my dictionary of specific words that represent my world, my past, present, and future. What I value is Laux’s emphasis on incorporating all of the senses in poems and finding one’s own persona—the persona, voice, distinctive to a poet that takes time and work to develop.
At the same time, I’ve held off on posting any updates on my blog for a while, but finally, I’ll let you in on a little secret. I started graduate school and am close to finishing my first semester. I’m working on a Master’s in Library and Information Science from SJSU.
I’ve wanted to work on this degree since I graduated college in 2018, but I finally took the plunge this year, and it’s been fantastic. I’m a part-time student since I’m still working full-time, but so far, it’s been a good balance between the two.
Graduate school is a different experience than undergraduate school. The workload is heavier, and the studies are more complex and focused. I’ve always been drawn to this type of academic study, and now I’m wondering if pursuing a PhD in Library and Information Science after this may be a good fit for me.
Besides NaNoWriMo, which is now my poetry writing month, I’m listening to Nine Inch Nail’s Ghosts VI: Locusts album, watching Only Murders in the Building, and bracing for another four years of Trump. Why does it feel like I’m living in The Twilight Zone?
I could write a whole other blog post on the anxiety and other emotions I have when it comes to the outcome of the election, but at this point, what does it matter to expend energy on that topic in that way? Maybe I will eventually, but not today.
Are you participating in NaNoWriMo24? If so, I want to hear from you. Leave a comment below, and let’s connect!
The featured image for this post was generated by AI – what do you think?
It’s Sunday and it’s raining, and I wonder what’ll happen next.
I’m spending my days absorbing the murders that continue to shake the U.S. (Tyre Nichols and the unending wave of mass shootings). Somewhere between it all, I’m inching along as each day starts and ends, and I can’t help but think we’ve all slipped into the next chapter of dystopia living.
Am I the only one who feels a strange kind of otherworldliness about existing right now? It’s one bludgeoning after another, and it won’t stop. Can’t medicate ourselves enough with shows, fast food binges, and the usual consumable depressants.
What’s been said has been said, and the fight continues on. There’s no going back to “normal.”
I’m feeling less like a human in this country and more like a living object stripped of agency as women’s reproductive rights are dismantled in multiple states.
Now I wonder if, much like generations who survived the Great Depression, World War I, and World War II, how will the events of the last seven years scar and continue to affect us and those who come after us?
I’m trying to stay positive, stay aligned with personal and professional goals. Read, write, and keep going. Some days it’s easier, but today I swear I feel the churning waves of something greater, darker, approaching on the horizon, inching closer as each day passes. I expect the unexpected. War? Famine? What’s next?
Ukraine fighting on, and the pain of continual murders in the U.S., either through police force or gun violence. I’m having difficulty putting it into words and documenting it all. It’s more than overwhelming.
How do you cope with the loss of the last three years? How many continue to suffer from losing friends and family due to COVID-19?
I haven’t posted in a while because my mind’s been swamped as I navigate making something of my life while juggling the gravity of everything happening.
How have you managed yourself? Are you able to compartmentalize what’s happening and then push on? I need something more than meditation and self-help books. I need hope.
Thoughts? Share them below in a comment, and let’s have a positive chat.
There’s been too much going on, from the war in Ukraine to the January 6th Attack Public Hearings, the continual mass shootings, and Roe v. Wade being overturned. I’ve been walking between two worlds of observations; looking at it all play out during moments of accidental disassociation. A writer left with her thoughts and words simmering in the dark violence that thrives.
I need some tea, I need some time, I need silence.
I haven’t written anything for this blog section since April because I’ve been working through everything that’s going on and making some life changes. But I think many of us are.
COVID-19 is still around, and inflation is now the highest it’s ever been in over four decades. And it doesn’t seem to be letting up. What’s next?
Recently, I recognized that what I’ve been feeling is similar to my state of being in March 2020. I’m watching sand castles get obliterated by a raging storm. And there’s this constant feeling of something preternatural churning below the surface around us.
During long, drawn-out days, it all reverberates through me. The whole world seems to be shattering, and I’m overwhelmed by all the battles. My emotions take the wheel, and I’m a wreck of worry, wondering what’s going to happen.
A Writer Slowing Down: Centering Myself and Quitting My Job
I’ve taken time to slow down and reassess what’s important and what needs to change in my life. This past month, I quit my job and pivoted to part-time ones in different fields.
I am working a couple of freelancing gigs; for one, I’m a freelance writer for a company where I craft SEO blog content for B2B and B2C companies. For the other, I’m doing more and more freelance work via Fiverr, and the uptick in orders has been wild. On top of that, I’m prepping for a part-time assistant role to get me out of the apartment and into the city more.
I realize I’ve been letting stress get the better of me for a few months now, and I can’t afford to let it continue. There’s no point in letting what you can’t control take control of you. But I constantly struggle with this.
All I have are my words and books to get me through this. And at the end of the day, I have to keep writing.
Read My Latest Post About Poetry: How to Come Up With Ideas for Poems in 3 Easy Ways
A gestation period of some sort. I recognize what this country is going through and what’s happening elsewhere; we are living in an era that won’t be forgotten, and it may be years until there is any kind of “peace.”
Some days, I need to word vomit about it until there’s nothing left. But, the trauma of the last two years has compounded with recent events leaving me hollowed out. So I have to cope.
I’ve been pouring over books, freewriting, and just getting lost trying to keep my mind busy. I can’t ignore what’s happening or how it affects me and everyone else; that’s impossible. But, I need small moments of nothingness, of “wasted time,” to reset my mind.
Staying Sane: Reading Poetry and Listening to Music
When times get tough, I only know how to keep it together by doing what I’ve always done: reading, writing, and learning. So here’s what I’ve been absorbing lately.
I’m reading Fog and Light: San Francisco through the Eyes of the Poets Who Live Here. And I’ve already begun putting together my SF July 2022 Spotify playlist.
At the beginning of the month, I finished Two Lives: Gertrude and Alice by Janet Malcolm and wrote a short review on Goodreads. I’m still unsure if I really liked the book or if my skepticism of the couple, specifically Gertrude’s character, was being projected on the book.
These are all fine things, good things I’ve done to keep my mind busy. But there’s no denying that what’s been happening is affecting me.
I’ve been worried about Roe v. Wade being overturned since Trump got into office. And when it finally happened, a numbness swept over me mixed with boiling rage.
With what’s going on, I am lucky I live in California, but I’m devastated. I can’t stop thinking about all the people whose human rights have been stripped across the country. And this is just the beginning.
Now it’s a countdown until they come after everyone who’s fought to have their voice heard, to be recognized and respected by society. If we don’t stand up for fundamental human rights, the boot will continue to smash us deeper into the ground and closer to hell.
In this society, I’m considered less than a human being but just a tool to be used by those in power. But this isn’t new, this has always been happening, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to see my rights gradually be stripped away during my life just because I’m a woman.
Joan Didion has been on my mind. Her work in the 60s was revolutionary. Her journalism, style, and voice are still strong, and I keep looking back because now the past feels like it’s come back from the dead. How can I balance writing and having something to say while dealing with the absolute turmoil of what’s going on?
It sucks.
And there’s nothing left to do but to go on. To keep going and see it all through. What I’m writing may warble and show signs of my emotional wear, but it’s the best I can do.
What’s happening? I’ve been trying to stay calm; I’ve been digesting everything going on in my personal life and the world for months now, a little in shock and a little overwhelmed. Where do I start? Well…
The Invasion of Ukraine and the Potential for World War III
Ukraine has settled into a permanent space in my brain. When I read the latest news, a thrum of anxiety pulses through me at different vibrations. The video, the photos, the reports of the destruction, the murder; these people’s lives are just torn apart because Putin wants to play old-world games that can no longer happen without the entire world watching. I’m so grateful we have the technology we do so the world can use its voice to speak out against Putin’s actions.
We might end up with a World War III, but I’m hoping not every day. I’m hoping they make it, that they can push Russia out, and the world won’t give up telling Putin he can stick it. But after the last six years of chaos, living during the tyranny years of Trump, COVID-19, the Black Lives Matter protests, the rise of white supremacist groups gaining support from the GOP, the corrupt actions of the Trump and his followers to overturn the election, I wouldn’t be surprised if this is next. Suppose the world ends up going to war. If we have to unite and fight for democracy and freedom, then so be it. Even as the last veterans and people who lived during World War II pass on and we fight Nazism here in the U.S., we can’t let the war crimes of Putin go unchecked. Unfortunately, my bruises haven’t healed, and they’re still tender to the touch. I’m trying to stay positive, but now I’m planning for the worst.
Am I trying to move forward? It’s not gone, eradicated, not at all. So many have lost family and friends to the virus, and now there’s a disconnect between those still grieving and struggling to deal with what happened these last two years and those ready to live life pre-March 2020.
I’m trying to move forward, but I’m not going to forget how many died and continue to perish because of the virus. I admit I’m wearing my mask less in public spaces. One of the reasons we moved to SF in the first place is that it’s a city where most people take COVID-19 seriously. I feel safer in San Francisco with our extraordinarily high fully-vaxxed rates and the percentage of people who’ve received their boosters.
An Intermission: Where’s my Mind? In San Francisco and Beyond
It’s quiet tonight. I can hear the rhythmic buzzing of the cable car line moving on Powell Street. I gulp down lukewarm mango ginger tea and wonder if I’ll have time tomorrow to read more from The Vintage Book of Contemporary American Short Stories. There hasn’t been much time to sit and read. I attempted two days ago to sit on the rooftop patio of the apartment building and read bits of Tales of the City. I became distracted by an older couple, maybe Gen Xers, arguing and putting in my Bluetooth earbuds to blast ocean sounds on Spotify. Back in my apartment, the neighbor slams their door down the hall; the glasses in my kitchen rattle. Why does everyone in this building like to slam doors? There’s nothing wrong with peace, but this is a city, so the sound is as loud as the stench of piss in the streets. I’m used to it now, but sometimes it’s more noticeable when I’m thinking like this.
There’s a numbness that has settled into my routine. I’m trying to balance my daily life, absorbing world news, and managing my stress. What is there to be stressed out about? Too much, I guess. Maybe it’s the inflation. Perhaps it’s the consistency of hate crimes directed toward the AAPI and LGBTQIA+ community. My stomach flips as I read about Texas’ abortion law and how other red states are writing their own as fast as possible so they can reverse the rights women have fought for for generations. What the hell is going on here?
This is only the beginning. Expect to see a weekly post like this one where I dive deep into my reflections on what’s going on in the world and my life. I’m just a writer, a poet, juggling things as I go along. Want to chat? Leave a comment below or email me at alinahappyhansenwriter@gmail.com.
We all need to help each other survive these days to have safe places to live for years to come. Have resources you’d love to share to help support Ukraine, AAPI, and LGBTQIA+ communities? Please share, and I will as well.
I haven’t been posting as many reflections on Life During COVID-19, politics, things happening, and adjusting to living in SF. I’ve been caught up in catching up. Between work, writing, and numerous trips back and forth between California and Utah, I feel like I haven’t had the time to sit, reflect, and write. So this post is a little warbly, moving all over the place as I start to get back on track.
Feeling Fall in SF
Subtly, the turn happens, and I can feel it in the air. It’s October, and fall is here. My boyfriend told me when he lived in SF all those years ago; he could never precisely remember what time of year it was when he recalled events because there aren’t drastic visible changes that mark the turning of seasons, at least not like in Utah.
But I’ve noticed, the few trees in the city, they look different. The heavy salty scent of water in the air is different even when mixed with the aromas of piss, shit, and trash. The change is abstruse, but I can see it. There is a Fall in SF, and I am enjoying its peculiar attributes.
The Roaring Blue Angels
I am munching on toasted honey wheat slices smeared with artichoke antipasto. I’ve drunk my coffee, and I’m trying to ignore the roaring Blue Angels as they sweep over the city, reminding me of the stories of Nazis dropping bombs on London during WWII. I’ve had a fear of planes flying low, the sound, the unknown, waiting to hear something more. Explosions and screams. I think this came from watching the Twin Towers fall into rubble on TV when I was a kid. Being told it was real, it’s not a movie; people are dead—murdered. It’s stuck with me.
Something that’s lived in the back of my mind, that death can strike like lightning, taking us out in an instant. I can’t take a moment for granted since then. Constantly aware that one moment leads into another, and then suddenly, it could abruptly end.
These feelings are so closely linked with the seasons changing into fall, my favorite time of year, when decay is beautiful, and a primordial power surges like rushing waves over every single thing.
A Month of Halloween Vibes
Halloween is approaching, but the month of October feels like a month-long celebration. It oozes from every fluctuation in the air, a magnetism that whips out from some other world. Could this possibly be the veil thinning that I’ve read so much about?
This year is different. I’m living in SF. The pandemic is ongoing, now over 700,000 dead, and I feel like the country continues to suffer from whiplash. Trump, politics, murder, the government continuing to neglect the people.
It’s like blood in the mouth, the taste of it hard to swallow, so it just pours over lips and drips to the ground, staining that spot indefinitely. The traumas, the life-changing events they’ve marked me, stained me in ways I’m not sure I can figure out right now.
Creeping and Living in SF
I’m listening to Thom York’s Creep (Very 2021 Remix). The rhythm has been slowed down to a bone-aching pulse. The eight-minute remix somehow sounds like a brand new song, but it’s so familiar. And yes, it feels like 2021; the stagnation, the PTSD, the hollowness of it all. And somehow, it all mingles with my first experience of fall in SF and, soon, Halloween.
I love this city. I thought maybe this would be an excellent place to rest for a few years before moving up the coast. But now I’m sure that this is a permanent home. Where else can I blend in so seamlessly? Where else can I experience so much culture and diversity within forty-seven square miles? SF has history, it’s alive, and underneath it all, there is something adoringly spooky about it that I can’t help but revel in.
An End to a Prelude
So, consider this short blog post a prelude to what I’m thinking will be a much longer piece focusing on the pandemic. I’m getting back into gear, and I will be posting more poems and prepping for NaNoWriMo 2021.
Until then: I have a few questions for readers.
If you live in SF, do you notice a change in the seasons? What do you think of the Blue Angels? Are there any spooky stories about SF that you’d like to share?
Leave a comment, start a conversation, or ask me a question below.
