I didn't expect to feel so enamored by you. By definition, the spark I felt – and I can only speak for myself here, because who knows what you were thinking – was the true idea behind "there's no accounting for taste." You had a mop of curly, dark hair, and days-old scruff lining a strong… Continue reading A moment in time.
I studied Ammu's visage where she sat opposite me, chattering away in the booth we selected at the back of the bustling Bangladeshi restaurant under the pretense of privacy – though truthfully, it was to avoid the disapproving gaze of those we'd firmly deemed as "nosy Bengalis." Prom night discussion lay on the table. It… Continue reading A lesson on forgiveness.
The steadfastness of life that I have come to know seems to be in utter flux these days. It's not exactly a bad thing, but it certainly is...different. 26 is a very strange age when it comes to managing expectations of how events are meant to unfold. You've surpassed the youthful milestones of ages 18,… Continue reading The most peculiar part about change.
Three months into the year 2019 and five weeks into age 26. I've lived many lives, and yet here I am, confronted with the usual existential dread and despair when gazing upon the blank space of an empty blog. One of my favorite mantras, one that I often tout to friends when they are facing… Continue reading The Write Way.
Let's talk about coffee. A grande chestnut praline latte at Starbucks such as the one I purchased this morning costs a whopping $5.93. Six dollars for what amounts to little more than a blend of milk, sugar, and syrups. Buying a Starbucks coffee is something of a treat for myself. Despite knowing how much… Continue reading Covfefe.
Recently, my dear old dad has taken to referring to my older sister and myself as "leftovers." It's not a term born from his own vocabulary, but one he acquired after reading a particularly formidable book called "Marry By Choice, Not By Chance." I'm rather late to the game seeing how the book made headlines… Continue reading The leftovers.
I decided to title this blog, the content of which I have yet to determine, after a Marilyn Manson song that used to occupy my iPod in my early high school days. Don't ask me to fathom my taste in music at fifteen. I, too, am at a loss as to why my first ever… Continue reading This is the new shit.