I’ve always had a finnicky relationship with time. At times, I feel pinned down by it. I don’t operate well under its pressure. The blankness of my mind mirrors the sheet in front of me as I see the stopwatch at the front of the lecture hall ominously trudge onwards, despite how I am not.…

if people are places, you feel like home

life is like costco sparkling juice

The passage of time. With each year, it turns over another page in our books, etches another wrinkle into the faces of your loved ones, silvers the hair. I think so hard about it, as though trying to suspend it in my mind. It’s no use, because even as I think about it, the seconds…

bring together the pieces of your soulassemble those fragments,custom ready-to-make furniture for your homethe books on your childhood shelfthe sold-out stadium tour: stuffed animal audiencesworlds you created and once understoodnow discarded, threads fraying, dust gathering we are a shell of ourselves, a houseuntil we reunite the slivers to create a home there are infinite ways…

I think there’s something so beautiful and pure in children and dogs. I’m thinking about the way they run unabashedly into the world, following their intuition and expanding their map of what’s in the realm of possibility with each step they take. I mean, come on, don’t tell me you’ve never seen a bunch of…

I’m a porcupine at times. Spiky around the edges, prickly when I feel like my boundaries are tested. Perhaps the cowlicks that my brush could never lasso in when I was growing up is a manifestation of that. Call it hair determinism. Whenever I was being a stubborn child, mom called me 刺儿球, which literally…