Creative Corner

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I come to this page with turmeric-stained fingers to reflect on my last 22.989 years, remembering the stories they tell me of myself. Like how I loved Coco the clown,Continue reading “22.989”


Honestly, I feel trapped between not knowing what to write, not wanting to write, and not knowing what people want to read. Honestly, A lot of what I say feelsContinue reading “Honestly…”


Isolation’s effects sit heavy on my chest, generalizing strangers and vilifying friends, sending me into a depressive state spiraling signaling virtues that never extend past advocacy. Stagnant social media activismContinue reading “humanhumanehumanity”


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