Posts
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on absence
When I moved out of college in May, it seemed as if all the creative aspects of myself had been packed away with my things in the storage unit. I forgot about this blog, I hadn’t picked up a pen, and I certainly hadn’t drawn anything; as corny as it is, I left a part
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coffee with my younger self
*This essay is reused from a piece I published in my campus newspaper. I met my younger self for coffee. It’s 2018 and it’s her first time at Starbucks. I can buy my own coffee now, and she relied on the gift cards she got for being overly-involved. It was a $10 gift card, and
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the inner child
Phone conversations with my mother often involve me being guilted or even sometimes reprimanded for not calling as often as I should. Usually, in these cases, I roll my eyes and apologize. I love my mother, with absolutely no doubt, but there’s a tendency on her end to forget that I’m an adult and I’m
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love personified
Love is a mother. She has lost her first two kids in a custody battle, and every man she’s had a child with has betrayed her in some way. Love is finding new lives in different people and trying to settle for the first time in her life. And love fails. She finds a man
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first
Hello world! When I was around eight or nine, I took my very first leap of faith: riding the Black Widow at Kennywood Amusement Park in Pittsburgh. For the first time, I felt the rush of adrenaline warm my head and my arms and I felt my heart race like we were somehow running for
of better words 