November 6th

This morning I woke up at six am. The country was bleeding pomegranate red and I, so sure we'd be drinking in a giddy paradise blue, stared blankly for minutes if not hours at the flashing computer screen. This morning I couldn't make my fingers move properly enough to open the email in my inbox so Google did it for me, a feat so impossibly advanced in a country that shot back to 2016 in just one night. This morning I found out I was the lead in one of my favorite plays, The Phantom Tollbooth, a strange, pun-filled commentary on boredom and time. I couldn't believe it. But as soon as I got to school, everyone's downcast faces reminded me I wasn't dreaming after all. Everyone whispered about our fates, but no one dared mention it in class, as if our teachers would catch us and whip it out of our hands like they did notes scribbled on ripped math homework. They didn't. But we couldn't stop. We couldn't comprehend that there could be a tomorrow after today. But there is. There will always be a tomorrow. Even if we don't want there to be. And we just have to wake up and cross our fingers and clutch each other and head to rehearsals and try to live in a country not made for us to live anymore.

Everyone is so devastated, and I know YWP will always be there for us, so just keep writing and making art, and we will get through this together. Cheesy but so important today especially. <3 :D