on editing a blank page

I tried to edit a blank page once, because a renowned author claimed it could not be done. Turns out, she was wrong. Have you ever looked up at the clouds and seen the colours they carry? If you haven’t, look up. If you have, you’ll know they’re not white; rather, they are blue, grey, … Continue reading

My Loneliness, Her Loneliness

She is so lonely. I am so lonely. Look at us, sitting in loneliness, next to each other. I run from it, hide from it. My loneliness, her loneliness. But they catch up and find me, in meaningless banter, between the lines, in silence. She cannot comfort me and she is inconsolable. What do you … Continue reading

At the heart of writing

At the heart of writing is a place without any inhibitions, where a fresh breeze of freedom allows writers to connect with themselves, and become more naturally truthful, vulnerable. I wish I didn’t have to go now. I wish I could stay, just one more night, – or plenty more – huddled up in the … Continue reading

First sentences mixed together

Always time for coffee. And then, finally, we are allowed to help. Is pride a demon or an angel? Can he do without her? Tell your aunt! Your future is created by what you do today, not tomorrow! We told one another that we loved each other the way true millennials would do, – through … Continue reading

In True Love

We admitted we loved each other the way true millennials would: through Facebook. It was an intriguing connection that we had, right off the bat; we both jumped into it, into us. It felt trusted, tender, true. It was strange, really wonderfully strange. Most relationships I see around me or hear about seem to always … Continue reading

The second cookie.

The first time I remember myself trapped in a moment of vulnerability, was when I laid butt naked on my bed, around the age of 8. The desperation of a parent can be terrifying and so I cried and wailed, begged for mercy, when I found out about the latest punishing technique: a belt. I … Continue reading


I see a young girl, early teens perhaps, wearing a yellow dress with, what seem, watermelon stains scattered on her not yet fully developed chest area. I don’t see her eating watermelon, nor is there any hint of it in the vision I gather, but my mind gladly helps me fill in the gaps of … Continue reading

Much better, much worse.

Whenever I saw her, the breathing coordination class we took together seemed to have been rather futile. They say you can calm your heart down when it busts out its new flamenco moves, by doing just about what we’d learned in class: breathing as lively and greedily as a sleeping baby does. I guess I never really wanted my … Continue reading

Wallpaper Whirlwind

She rarely speaks of it, but whenever she does, she breaks in the most heartfelt of ways. She’s a whirlwind, that one. When she speaks of her times at college, it pricks you like thorns; she cries uncontrollably when she speaks of memories so sweet that you can taste them on your tongue. She says … Continue reading


the writings on the wall have been known to hide behind layers of paint – white, baby blue, lavender purple, and then white again. although you change (not just you, but everything in your life, as well, is constantly growing into something else), certain traits remain; not even a perpetuate state of attempting to penetrate … Continue reading