Liberty is Freeing — I woke up to sunrise breathing over her, slowly revealing her vast greatness. Dawn of the Empire, you might say- what a sight to behold in such Eastern glory, such strength in her golden yawn. Liberty greeted my presence and welcomed me with open arms after I crossed over bridges…

She was a brutal soul dwelling in this dark, dark mass of bone. She sought to ridicule and derogate and crucify. There was a certain shadow of pure, unthwarted disturbance that turned her into this walking stalk of dried, salty, coarse mold- a sort of stigma that was everlasting. I…

Speak your truth — On that fateful November afternoon, her hands cradled Fitzgerald’s brain matter as they were splattered all over the convertible. But with whom do we commemorate legacies the most? Jackie in her pink bloodied pillbox, or Miss Monroe with the bejeweled marquisette? FLOTUS in her present subconscious, or Marilyn so awol? …

Yes, you read that correctly, yes indeed. Let’s start from the beginning, shall we? In the winter of early 2020, before the pandemic became such a nuisance, I applied to my alma mater as a teacher. I did not expect to get the job as I was already employed then…

It is ones we love who have the power to inflict the greatest scars. For what thing is more fragile than the human heart? — I’m a bit cracked right now. Rummaging through disheveled pieces of my heart, trying to glue them back together but they seem to evade me each time. Pillows drenched night after night, day after day. Yet, if given a chance, I’d do it all over again. Have you ever loved so much…

The one with the ray of hope — I noticed him day after day, on my daily evening commute to work. It wasn’t necessarily him per se, but the sign he was holding. Everyday, he wore the same clothes, stood at the same spot on the corner of the sidewalk, with the same cardboard sign that read “Anything…

I looked at him in the auburn darkness and my words fell out like wine saps in the autumn breeze — “you are the closest to heaven I have come.” — Five thousand miles across the waves of the Atlantic and a nervous excitement that tortured me with pure exhilaration. It was my first time by the Southern rivers. It was my first real longing. A pause — And then his voice caressed my senses in a solemn, opaque stillness —…

just one time… — ‘Twas the fact that I had fears. Fears that could not be compared to the ones I possessed as a little child alone in the dark, or the one ones I have at present. The linger in my thoughts have created a yearning; one that I reached for so eagerly, one that…