Voices on Addiction: I’m Not Eating
I want to tell her that starving softens the edges of everything. When I’m not eating, only the moment at the end makes me feel present.
Essays
428 posts
Debtors to a Mercy We Never Begged For
No, home is not as simple as the heart-shaped sandwiches Ma placed into my lunch bag on Valentine’s Day or the way my father confessed to listening to me sing shower showtunes or washing a car beside my brother as the summer sun beat down.
Letter to My Mentee (October 26, 2023)
“This,” I say to my daughter, choking up, “is civilization. Not banking, not technology. Not weaponry that kills without a fight. This,” I go on, seeing her face pale, “is what it means to be civilized.”
The Mothership
Most of all, I hoped they’d see how well I turned out and regret ever sending me away.
The Beat Goes On
If the average lifespan is roughly 76 years, then that one muscle, the size of a fist, beats 2,796,192,000 times. It never quits, until it quits.
What She Kept
I hand-wrote my mother a letter entirely in hangul. It looked like a child wrote it, which was because a child wrote it.
Voices on Addiction: This is Not A Story About Sobriety
I didn’t realize until I wrote this: my first interaction with alcohol was shrouded in secrecy.
A GenderPunk Love Letter
Every support system that is lacking is made up for by a mad rush of love-struck queers trying to hold each other up.
The Blood of My Mother
For as long as I remember, I have had stories in my head and instead of writing them down, I had imaginary conversations with people.
ENOUGH: Abstinence of Education
Some people don’t like the word, “trigger.” I don’t like it. If you give me a better extremity-isolating-suitcase-flying-fury of a word, I will use it.