In between ceramic tiles, I empathize with Murakami’s characters (disjointed, numb). I’m reminded of how disconnected I’d once felt, as if this was myself but somehow it wasn’t. I tossed and turned, ran through storms, writhed in bed. Wondered: and so how did she, this other self, feel? Because I felt nothing. Between shallow breaths … More Disjointed


Art Hub

I don’t feel much in the summer, not as much as I do in the winter. There’s something about the onslaught of cold—the onslaught of nostalgia, the wave of emotion, of icy blustery wintry reflection. It’s barely Halloween and I’m ready for Christmas. We’ll have lights, I’ve decided. Rainbow lights. A tree, spindly and green. … More Art Hub

9:54 PM

A man darts out in rainbow swim trunks and grabs his mail. The moon’s a slice of flan in the sky. I slouch and The Weeknd mumble-hums about an after party. I’ve never listened to Wanderlust in full but every time time the song pops up, I hear: “there’s a song by The Weeknd called … More 9:54 PM

happiness floods, stream of consciousness

cool air fading sunsets silhouettes of schoolchildren swinging high high high up I don’t know what it is about dipping temperatures that evokes deep nostalgia for Octobers for plaid skirts that weren’t enough for holey knit lumpgreen sweaters for Halloween nights and panda-looking eyes for reflective lakes reflective tears reflective friendships moving on we moved … More happiness floods, stream of consciousness