She Was The Lighthouse That Guided You Home, The Siren That Beckoned You To Her Embrace, The Light Of

sometimes we are childish. sometimes we do something our 16 year old self would have done, think something our 11 year old self would have thought, cry like our 7 year old self would have cried. why is this so embarrassing? why does it make us feel such shame? when you’re 20, 30, 40, are you not also every age you’ve been before? do all of your previous incarnations not still live inside of you?

a very important matter what was the first song in 2022 you listened to

sylvia plath, “elm”

They stood like memory

“my child is fine” your child is estranged from their own native language

me writing fictional couples: oh wow…. the tenderness, the devotion, the romance

me irl:

Black Earth Rising (2018)

Virginia Woolf〡Selected Essays; Notes on an Elizabethan Play

I cannot unclench my fist from the shape of a bullet.

—Olivia Hu, “Mistaking Ground for Feet”