I’m not much of a talker but I have things to say. I find that writing is a way for me to “talk.” Despite my inconsistency, I write because I find it therapeutic. Because, like everyone else, I react to things and I have opinions, too. I have a roster of public intellectuals and writers whom I admire, and aspire to be like.
My problem is that I don’t take myself seriously. Continue reading →
It’s been about six years since I last saw any member of my extended family. The unfortunate consequence of this is how childhood memories of said relations continue well into adulthood. How that characterization you grew up with becomes a taken-for-granted fact, until a collision occurs. A collision between childhood me and adult me; between what I’ve been told and grown-up me. Continue reading →