Who am I? I look at the face of another to find my answer. I come to this world and find there’s a constitution that binds me, there is an unwritten moral code we all follow and many written scriptures that are sacred. I look in the eyes of my…

I was the victim, I was the murderer. — Not all murder stories are dramatic. Some are instant. Some are gradual and insidious. Some are trivial. Not all murders are accounted for. Some pass away by our eyes each day but we don’t even bat an eyelash. What is a murder anyway? If we weren’t so obsessed with euphemisms…

Everything about life can now be packaged in small, digestible audio and visuals. Everything can now be monetized! Content I am sure there will be times when children would question their guardians if life came first or content. There is no particular definition for the word ‘content’. …

( Trigger Warning: Discussion of suicidal ideation.) “People think we understand more about suicide than we actually do,” said Foreman. “We have invested very, very little into research on suicide, especially on feeling chronically suicidal. But at a certain point, when you’re having that mood all the time, something is…

The old man, his bag of seeds and me. We are back again today. We sit on the same bench each day after our morning stroll. He walks on crutches. I jog. We never exchange a word to each other. He’s become my best friend. “Used to come here with…

If we only spoke of love, I’d speak a ton. Skipping and dancing in an ever-so blissful indulgence, there would be no hindrance or signs of stopping. From now on, I’m in my easy world. A drunken stupor spell I’m casting on myself. My easy world is easy because flowers…

TRIGGER WARNING: Discussion of abuse. “I killed a plant once because I gave it too much water. Lord, I worry that love is violence.” ― José Olivarez, Citizen Illegal I swatted away her hand like it an annoying mosquito buzzing around me. I rearranged my posture into a straighter one…

I look at this ugly thing. This blemish on my knee. This is not the scar to a glorious victory. Just the time I was trying to hop like a frog and tripped over a pot of hot milk. I howled alone for long as the milk burned my skin…

Could I be the tiny butterfly that flutters its wings and brings a typhoon? And there I would go fluttering without a care in the world. I would only look for the flowers with the sweetest nectar and wouldn’t stay on one for long enough. My life would be as…