And if you know someone who’s grieving, do not say: “Call me if you need anything.”
In my most recent short story, the main character, an adolescent male named Luca, jumps off the roof of his high school after hearing about his best friend’s death. He feels responsible for her passing, which contributes to his suicide attempt. Luca has a lot of emotional problems; he wrecks havoc amongst his peers to satisfy his twisted sense of morality. Continue reading
My grandfather has stopped eating, and I feel nothing.
I grew up with my grandparents; I shared the basement of my house with them. I remember sleeping with my grandmother as a toddler, the way I would hold her hand and rub the skin between her fingers as I closed my eyes. Continue reading
A few weeks ago, I watched Amour, a movie centered on Georges and Anne, a married couple in their eighties. They reside in Paris as retired and cultivated music teachers. Their peaceful lives change when Anne suffers a stroke that paralyzes the right side of her body. George chooses to take care of her no matter what the consequence.
My semester in a nutshell.
The media floods us with images of passionate love, with dramatized versions of real life. Continue reading
This past Thursday, I moved back to college and volunteered to help freshmen with course registration. Afterward, acquiring alone time felt wonderful after such a hectic summer, and all of the nature on campus added a scenic touch. Also, because neither my roommate nor I brought posters to our respective rooms last year, I decided to buy a few to spruce up our living space.
Fitting posters for an English and Psychology double major, right?
The passage of time still surprises me. Continue reading
When I was little, I fantasized about my mother’s death. Continue reading
The other day I had an hour to kill before seeing a movie with my dad. I had options. I could write the next scene of my short story, read some poetry, or breeze through a chapter of my current novel. Instead, I went on Facebook. Then I checked my inbox on Yahoo. Then Gmail. Then Goodreads. Back and forth, from site to site, for 60 minutes.
By the time my dad came up to pick me up, the hour had disappeared. I had actually lost an hour online. Continue reading