bien dit: On Being Articulate
I find myself craving the simplicity of incoherence, wishing to retreat into a state of brazen, youthful, unapologetic existence, where I am allowed expression without the constraints of language.
marginalia
Tortured Poets, Edvard Munch, and The Enduring Connection Between Art and Suffering
Not only is art born from a man’s open heart, Munch says, but is the heart’s blood itself.
the sun is a little honeybee (a poem)
what i hold dear and true
sadness as subjective as a shade of blue
Draped in Petals: How Nature Inspires Fashion from Pixie Hollow to Dior
Remember the willow tree, for it may seem dull after watching so many dazzling iterations of it spawn from our human desire to imitate, but its beauty and love remains, waiting for you to come home
Absurdism: Philosophy, Whimsy, Men Take a Seat
It had escaped my notice, by some miracle, that People always seem to be salivating over absurdist fiction without any mention of female writers.
On Thinking (a Poem)
Operating under the assumption that everything I say has to be a thesis on my ethos
Being Funny In a Foreign Language
“Meandering” “Pretentious” “Self-involved” How the 1975’s 2023 album says everything I wish I could.
Animal: a Brief History
I say I believe in signs. I thought they were supposed to be butterflies or angel numbers or something…
The Alchemist (a Poem)
A couplet poem on feeling like finding one’s purpose is always just out of reach, no matter how hard you try to be true to yourself.