02.26.1999
Time passed in a flurry of blurred shapes and colors. When the train stopped, I stepped onto the cobblestone pavement. An orange cat greeted me bathed in sunlight. As I approached the forest, the cobble grew uneven, weeds growing in between. My hard, hollow steps turned into the rhythmic, soft thud of soil and foliage.… Continue reading a walk in amsterdam
The night sky was silver. My hands were stiff on the wheel. Where I turned, the moon followed. The heater blew cold before the road bent around the hill. Then it opened, and the sky was silver and the clouds were cold, but the hill had fireflies. The lights breathed like scattered coals. The windshield… Continue reading I-5 south
I recently watched Manchester by the Sea. It’s a powerful film about grief and one man's inability to forgive himself for his past actions. I loved every minute of it. It’s viscerally raw and deeply human in a way that resonates with anyone who's struggled with feelings of guilt and loss before. Since watching it,… Continue reading reflections on grief, grace, and repentance
Whenever the sunlight proved too burdensome for me to bear, I found shade in two places. One was the abandoned playground at the back of our red-brick church. I remember meandering along the shaded, narrow path that led to it while listening to soft background music, and because the church lay nestled beneath a hill… Continue reading remembrance of days past
"He ate his breakfast with his back against the tree, reading the magazine while he ate. He had previously read but one story; he began now upon the second one, reading the magazine straight through as though it were a novel. Now and then he would look up from the page, chewing, into the sunshot… Continue reading perfect days
In the scorching summer sun,A young boy is playing soccer by himself. He’s in his front yard, commentating his every move.And here comes Kim! He's driving, dribbling, shoots.... GOAL!!!The neighborhood kids are laughing at him, but he doesn’t mind. He’s wearing the jersey of his favorite player.Manchester United, #13. J.S. Park.His dream is to become… Continue reading dreamer
It is Valentine’s Eve at my mom’s flower shop. I enter through the rear entrance and head straight to the cramped, grimly lit back office to drop off my backpack. My dad—a typically easygoing, happy-go-lucky guy—is absorbed in his work, sipping black coffee while sternly mapping out flower delivery routes at his desk. Between him… Continue reading cleaning roses
I came across To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf in February of 2025 after learning that her style shared similarities to Faulkner, a writer known for utilizing stream-of-consciousness to explore the complex depths of his characters. From the opening pages, I was blown away. Time is relative; mere seconds in the story stretch across several… Continue reading but this is what i see
marginalia 