There was a point in my life where my mom was strong for me, and now I am strong because of her.
On December 13th, 2023, I embarked on a deep dive into my Instagram archives. I scrolled through countless […]
But before I can dive deeper into the endless chaos, I see a glimmer in the corner of my eye. Gone is the past. With a closer look, I can see two little green gems engraved in a golden ring, almost like brothers. The perfect ring right in front of me, something I never thought I needed until now. But before I can even check the pricetag, I’m gutted by the fact that this ring is not for me. Not yet at least. The ring is a prize, meant for someone who knows who they are. Knows what they want, where they want to be, and who they want to be with. Someone who knows the horns of life, but still challenges the bull anyways. The person who will own this ring knows how to handle life in the past, present, and future.
Taking on more responsibilities didn’t unearth me from the expectations I’ve been taught to assume since childhood. The burden of expectation follows me, regardless of my added work experience, relevant courses, or new extracurricular activities. It seems I’ve been lost within a growing résumé.
It was selfish, my assumption that everything would stay right where I left it. There is nothing that can take the last 18 years from me. But I have to loosen my grip. I have to let home change. I have to carry it with me.
Weights are heavy. That’s the point.
Today, I still stumble over Hebrew script and my voice falters when I pray on Shabbat. Yet, entering synagogue fills an emptiness in my stomach that ached as a child. I don’t know if it’s God that is moving through me, or if it is the strength of my great-grandfather, fighting for his life so I have the choice to pray today.
Artwork by Ben Henderson Through my collage, I am expanding upon notions of solitude and presence, yet also […]
It takes two babies to drive a racecar.
A mock-epic about Derry Girls.
I don’t believe in God anymore.
It was just another day in another week of school; that weird time of COVID-19 where every day felt the same.
“I just wanted to kill her…that’s why I stabbed her. But you stopped me before I could cut her up. For some reason, I felt this urge to dismantle her.”
I felt it next to me.
the first words doctor hannibal lecter say to will graham on nbc’s hannibal are “do you have trouble with taste?”
I’m sick of begging and I’m sick of trying.
Something scratches at the back of my throat,
I have compiled both hypothetical ideas and actual gifts given, both the meta- and the physical, from both friends and acquaintances.