“33 is some shit.” he warned me of what the year would bring, saying the words slowly and with a certainty. not quite removed from the discomfort of 33–in fact, four months shy of his 34th—his words were laced with bass in his voice. he was serious. sad, even. it wasn’t the year he had lost his ... VIEW POST
a letter to my daughter on her second trip around the sun
letter 3 of 19. you are not yet aware of your magic. the intensity of your voice. a subtle one that swallows and strings together sentences, only to regurgitate them back in a way that allows me to hear myself. the gentle voice that rises in pitch when you find excitement in examining ... VIEW POST
the fear in staying and the faith in letting go
i have lived in new york for 11,479 days. a concrete jungle where dreams are made of + deferred. a place where i have learned how to navigate subway systems and poverty. i know what it is to live off of food stamps and thrive off of side hustles. at the start of early mornings came blue + red lights ... VIEW POST
the 115th uber ride
the monotony of life after work—typing in locations on apps and confirming destinations with the press of a thumb. every night, the routine was the same; the route, no different. to hide in the darkness of a car, my skin and coat camouflaged into the leather of someone’s seats. and fade. it was the ... VIEW POST
a letter to my daughter on her first birthday
letter 2 of 19. to the little girl who has the power to transform energy when she rests her head on your chest; the one that kicks and screams when she can’t get her way—a hunger to go all out for her wants; my daughter who probably holds the record of Most Sesame Street Episodes Watched by a ... VIEW POST
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