KINGS' EYE: Quarantine

KINGS' EYE: Quarantine

QUARANTINE (N.)

KINGS’ EYE

MESSAGE

It all happened at once. Masks and distance became the norm, but how did this distance affect us? Quarantine amidst the pan - demic not only distanced ourselves from others, but also from ourselves. Each day alone seemed like a dream, but now it is the reality. We hope Kings’ eye can also serve as a remedy to people who have quarantined their own emotions and thoughts. Despite being far away from each other, we hope we can still feel each other’s presence through written poems, stories, artwork, photographs, and much more. What you’re feeling is also felt by others. What you’re thinking is also thought of by others.

Some may have felt isolated, while some may have had realizations that were eye openers. People also took time for themselves for their self-improvement and reconnected with themselves, their family and friends, and the world around them. In these trying times, some may have even found hope. Quarantine is defined by the dictionary as a state of enforced isolation, but we all have our own story to tell. Now tell the world, what “Quarantine” is for you.

FROM THE EDITOR

CORONA

by topaz

The small, dire monarch Spreads an empire across lands Turmoil in his hands

TABLE OF CONTENTS

(N.) A PERIOD OF ISOLATION Bird Cage I – p.8 Locked Inside – p.9

Fictitious – p.10 Why You? – p.13 Greatest Desires: Thoughts of a Lonely Boy – p.14 The Beauty of the Seasons – p.15

Encased in Amber – p.18 It was All a Dream – p.21 Reiner – p.22

Will It Ever End? – p.24 A Writer’s Block – p.26 (N.) ANOTHER CHANCE FOR SELF-IMPROVEMENT The Corner of Identity – p.30 Working on It – p.35 Quarantine and Me – p.38

TABLE OF CONTENTS

TABLE OF CONTENTS

(N.) AN EYE-OPENER POV: Inang Kalikasan - Ang Sabi ni Ina – p.42 Sakal ng Pandemya – p.44 An Apology – p.49 (N.) RECONNECTING WITH THOSE AROUND US Hush – p.52 A Kiss of an Eclipse - p.57 (N.) FINDING HOPE AGAIN

I’m Here - p.62 Treasure - p.63 Sakura - p.64 Rebirth - p.69 Trust – p.70 Bird Cage II – p.71

TABLE OF CONTENTS

qua ran tine

by nicole

Section Art by Evonne Panergalin

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BIRD CAGE I

by Charlize Janeth T. Alvarez

You see I am all alone Within parallel bars of steel Or of iron or stone Surroundings fading, so surreal No leaves in the trees, no wind to feel

You see I am all alone But my heart’s been empty And I don’t feel so lonely Even if I’m on my own Still no trace of light though the sun has shone

You see Even though the door’s not zipped And even though my wings are unclipped I still won’t escape or let anyone in I’ll still be on my own Because I’d rather be alone.

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LOCKED INSIDE

by Raphael Iñigo D. Liwag

Even in cramped places, This world feels painfully distant. I can’t escape this twisted fate - I’m bound by these invisible chains. The seasons change, but the news stays the same. These chains continue to lock me in. How long do I need to be trapped? It’s such a pain being stuck here with nothing to do.

Everything is overwhelming me And I can’t seem to handle these terrible feelings. It only grows stronger as time goes by. I can’t hold it in; I don’t know what to do. Locked inside these four white walls, Away from those who should be near Would I be able to endure this harmless assault? A time with no tint, hue, or value: just darkness.

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FICTITIOUS Your invisible arms encase me, Engulfed in a tantalizing cold, I gaze at your ethereal beauty The salty tears, I withhold When the time is right, you’ll be joining I extend my hand, so near Until our next illusory meeting Why can’t you be here? by Levi Ackerman

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Barren by Angeline Rebecca B. Serrano

by Therese Felicci V.Siasoco

WHY YOU? closed doors, closed windows closed heart, with only one key and it’s in your hands

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GREATEST DESIRES: THOUGHTS OF A LONELY BOY

by Salan

I want to lay down and talk to someone Is anyone down? Let’s talk until you’re no longer just a someone.

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THE BEAUTY OF THE SEASONS

by Eloisa Lynn L. Aldueza

I see the sky in your eyes, a forest evergreen, the birds soaring high, the best view I’ve never seen. I look up and around, up at the hollow juniper trees. I look down at the ground and hear the yellow buzzing bees.

I watch the leaves dancing, and hear the squirrels squeaking by. Everything is oh so entrancing, like the sweet taste of pumpkin pie. I touch the snow as it falls, the clear blue sky, looking mysteriously at the wall, As I hear you say goodbye.

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by Joella Marianne G. Vergara

by synonymous

ENCASED IN AMBER Do you remember me?” These are the four words I hated saying because I was never certain about the answer I would get. If they did remember me, how would I know that they weren’t lying? I’ve been stuck in here so long, just waiting. Waiting for the day some- one tells me that I can leave. Waiting for the day someone talks to me again. Waiting for the day someone sets me free. However, no matter what, that day gets farther and farther away. Everyday, it feels like I’m forced to watch the world move on without me. People are out there saving lives, reuniting with friends, living life. It might not be in the best circumstances but at least they’re happy. I wanted to hear someone say my name again. I want- ed someone to treat me like a person again. I wanted to stop wearing a mask around people and actually be me.

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I wanted things to go back to normal. I look around and I know that’s never gonna happen. If that day I can leave ever comes around, I will have to utter the four words I hate the most. “Do you remember me?” I know nobody will. Why should they remember me? They’ve moved on and I’m still stuck in the past. Why would they remember me? I ha- ven’t done anything memorable. I don’t mean anything to them. They won’t care about what these past few months have done to me. I know we’re all stuck inside, but I feel like I’m stuck inside my own head and all my worst fears are coming true. I’m being replaced. Little by little. The places I once held so perfectly are being taken by so many others, all because I’m stuck and I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. The world is moving around me but I can’t go with it because I’m encased in amber.

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dis·tant /ˈdistənt/ (of a person) not intimate; cool or reserved.

by nicole

IT WAS ALL A DREAM

by John Christian F. Iglesia

It was just like any other day. I was on the school bus, rid- ing past mountains, valleys, and fields of lush greenery. When our journey ended, I hopped off the bus and walked all the way up to my classroom. Along the way, I would be greeted by teachers, staff, and fellow schoolmates whose smiles have always been glowing. When I finally made it to the classroom, there I met my classmates - my happy pills, my treasures, my everything. We spent the whole day together. Whether it would be studying, laughing, crying, or even singing, there was never a dull moment. These people have been my family. My home away from home. That’s how my dream went. I then woke up with a jerk, and I started crying. It was the most horrible sinking feeling. That reality I once lived in, where no sickness was looming, and life was just nor- mal, will now be kept in the chambers of my mind.

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REINER Two minutes turned into two hours. Two hours turned into two days. Two days turned into two weeks. Two weeks turned into two months. Two months turned into two years. Two years turned into two decades. What awaited him was death. A death caused by the dark colors of life enclosing around him, trapping his mind inside repeated and continuous negative energy. It was not a serene death with family surrounding him, but it was a slow and morbid decomposing of the human mind. Repeat . No matter how many times he died, it seemed that he would never be able to grasp the sweet release. A death that felt like an eternal loop. He clawed at the walls of isolation until his fingernails bled out, only to realize how helpless his situation was. Reach . He had been looking for an arm, any arm that would reach out to him. One arm did, it tightly pulled him into his grasp. It may have been time to leave. Even through his clouded vision, he continued to look up into the darkness. He had become complete mush. The walls that held him echoed the pain in his voice, but no one was there to hear him. A lonely ending with no one around him. He reached out his hand, but he had only found the palms of the reaper. Gone . by Benjamin Mark Alan B. Ward

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by Geanna Lubelle DV. Asunto

WILL IT EVER END?

by Charlize Janeth T. Alvarez

The sky is clear, and there is enough time to spare. It is a beautiful day and a perfect time to write. Or is it? Because it’s been a year, and she’s been stuck within the four corners and green-painted walls of her room. The col- or of nature should help her think, but there’s just nothing in her mind but endless questions that’s been keeping her up all night as she stares at the ceiling, her eyes wanting to punch a hole, touch the stars, and ask them, when will this end? She wants to escape, but there’s war outside. And it’s as if they’re prisoners kept within boxes disguised as the

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comfort of their homes. There are people dying disguised as numbers. Killers disguised as men in uniform. Incompetence and messy plans disguised as mere shortcomings. But it’s been a year. When will this end? Her eyes on the screen and fingers on the keys. The cursor won’t stop blinking unless she begins to write. But there are only questions and no answers. Worse, it feels like everything depends on her-- as if this will only end when the blinking ends. But it’s neither a beautiful day nor a perfect time to write after all, so she asks again, when will this end?

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A WRITER’S BLOCK

by a writer, Shanley Nicole A. Cabaguio

The first word is always the hardest to type, Or to write, Or to think about. Papers after papers, The words flowing Are starting to feel like nothing.

What am I supposed to be writing about? When all I can see were dull clouds From the window of my bedroom. And all of me is being consumed By the loneliness, By the stillness.

The world stopped, And I failed to adapt.

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The colors faded from my eyes “I better start writing,” I was full of lies. Day by day, It was only me waiting Of that sudden burst of inspiration, Motivation. Here’s a confession:

I tried to fill each line with rhymes, But it was nothing but a waste of time Writing no longer spark. It started blending with the dark

I believe that a writer dies twice— once when they’ve stopped writing, and this first death is the more painful.

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qua ran tine (n.) Another chance for self-improvement

by nicole

Section Art by Evonne Ramya D.Panergalin

THE CORNER OF IDENTITY This lonely state of isolation has caused me to wander around the spacious cavity of my mind. I never realized how many thoughts have been stored in my head, suppressed by a myriad of reasons, most- ly caused by mankind’s condescending stares. A quarantine that has lasted for almost a year was driving everyone from every corner of the world insane. But this same isolation made me think of not only others, but also of myself. It has become a pandemic of self-reflection. I walked to one corner of my mind, the corner of “Identity”. A dark door faced me. A mysterious silence came from behind it. For some reason, I could not tell if the door is big or small. It was like a dream where I kept skipping a few seconds without realizing it. I turned the doorknob and I was introduced to a big open room, enough to fill more than three houses. Strangely, com - by Mikaela Giuliana M. Manalo

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pared to its quiet mood outside the door, hundreds of noises could be heard in here. A portion of this place was filled with happiness and pride. A billion colors flashed while someone strummed a guitar to a song of the Nine Muses. Marching bands and parades of smiles also filled the place. It would not be far-fetched to call it paradise. However, on the opposite side of this corner was a place of confusion and anger, a place that I remembered whenever I look into the mirror, drowning in frustration. The screams of faceless beings suffocated the air out of me. “Who am I?” they shouted. I do not know. I do not know if I ever will know. “What am I?” bellowed the identified creatures. Why are you asking me this? I want to be left alone.

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“Was I born in the wrong body?”, “Is my pure existence a sin?”, “Am I a person deserving of hatred by everyone in the galaxy?” - These were just a few of the thoughts that run through the dark ravines of the corner of “Identity”. However, in the middle of the two, a single light was there where you can sit and come to a realization. I have sat there before, but every single time, I forgot what I learn. I know this because if I have actually remembered anything, my daily life would not be filled with utter dysphoria. And so, I sit again. Then I realized something. I realized that perhaps it does not matter. It is not important to label myself, to be put in a box along with others who have been ostracized, to worry about how others will react. Should my priority not be my own happiness? I should not care about the views of people who know nothing. I am anything that I want to be. I stood up, satisfied with the conclusion. I said goodbye to the place inside my head, and leave through the door, forgetting about all of it once again.

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by Mikaela Guillana M. Manalo

WORKING ON IT

by Katrina Deniesse L. Luna

Why am I working? Why am I studying? Why do I pray? I’m climbing my way up to be the person I always wanted to be. Sacrifices and pain, just tell me I’m willing to pay. Never giving up, giving in, so I ignore the red on my knee. This is not just a piece of cake, more than a cup of tea. We’re talking about my future and my will to be a queen. It’s not about them, it’s all focused on me.

Give me the chance to fly and I promise that I will win. Hoping will never be a sin. Eyes on the price and focus on your dream. Being broke is not what I mean. Give time to rest, make time to scream. Fly high and turn your hope into a theme. Find an inspiration to lean on. Our life journey is extreme. Make yourself an unbeatable teen.

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By Franz Margaux L. Perezs

By Franz Margaux L. Perezs

QUARANTINE AND ME

by Carlo M. Zulueta

Life is so full of surprises. You never know what is going to hap- pen in the next second of every minute. Since March 2020, I haven’t seen the insides of a mall, gone to the park or hugged my friends in school. I truly missed the human contact and so wished that everything can go back to my old per- ception of normal. I see possibilities though for I am a very objective and open minded. Therefore, while waiting for the world to change, I decided to try my luck in bringing up plants to keep me sane and occupied. At the same time, I can use this for a Science Project due for this year. It was fun even though my plants were not very good company. Through this, I realized that the best way to conquer death is to give life, in whatever form. We can only try, hope and pray.

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qua ran tine

by nicole

Section Art by Franz Margaux Perez

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POV: INANG KALIKASAN ANG SABI NI INA

by Pia Margaret V. Ozaeta

Itong babae na hinahangaan ng lahat Nakakaakit ang kulay ng kaniyang mahiwagang kutis Para sa kaniya’y kumikinang ang mga tala sa alapaap At tila ba’y bulaklak na bigkis Bahay sa lahat ang ibinibigay niya Tubig, pagkain, hangin upang buhay ang hindi pumalya Tungkol doon sa ibinalik natin kay ina? Eto lamang ang masasabi niya...

Hindi, ayoko ng isa dalawa tatlo Ilang numero pa ba ang bibigkasin ko Upang makita niyo nasasaktan na ako Upang makita niyo na hindi na ito kalikasan Sa araw-araw na pagtatapon ng basura papunta sa puso ko Sa pagbigkas ng mga salitang “wala akong pake sayo” Ano pa ba ang ibibigay ko Upang makita niyo ang kahalagahan ng nasa paligid niyo

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Paligid-ligid bahay kubo Kahit munti, ako ay lumalaho na Quinta, Siony, Tony, Ulysses, Rolly Puro kayo “come vibe with me” Ayan, napala niyo

Ang ina na dati ay inaalagaan ng kaniyang mga anak Ang ina na dinubog na lamang ng delubyong dala ng tao Ang natitira lamang kay ina, ay isang palakpak

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SAKAL NG PANDEMYA

by Yja Coelis Regina L. Castor

Panlasa! Panlasa! Nasaan ka? Doktora! Doktora! Bakit ang hirap huminga? Tanong ng mga Pilipinong walang disiplina Distansya! Distansya! Sigaw ng mga kasama Ang tanging san>Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76

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