I had been a fan of the color red since middle school. It was one of my first defining traits. I followed the footsteps of my brother for so long, but for the first time I tried to be my own perso...

The shock and awe of my aunts as they watched the host hand me a beer was simply a joy to watch. The beer didn’t taste great, but seeing how they reacted made it worth it. I had kept myself free o...

The light wasn’t there before. It was an alluring sight within the darkness of the apartment—the rest of the room felt dim in comparison as my eyes locked onto it. It wasn’t there before. The alar...

I suppose the first thing that really changed was my job. I got the call back almost a month after I sent my email. I almost gave up on finding a proper job, but they had called just after I got m...

It was a strange sense of pride as I held that grade in my hands. “Number of errors: 14/15” [/] Passing Doing the things I had done before was never an encouraging feeling. Tests in school were n...

I told myself “never again.” Fresh memories of rain getting soaked into a jacket I still have today. Deep cuts in a loud beating heart I could never put into words. A form of complex emotion barel...

Dear Reader, The 8 writings below are tales of adulthood, and as such deal with some mild topics. These include discussion of abandonment, familial rejection, mental illness, anxiety, and minor m...

Dear Reader, The 4 writings below are tales of depression, and as such deal with some heavy topics. These include heavy discussion of abandonment, mental illness, trauma, and some minor mentions ...

I can’t really tell why I keep writing. Not writing writing—writing is important and I need it. I mean writing these. Writing this. It feels like nobody will hear it. Maybe I’ll post it and people...

I’m like a broken toy. I’m a clockwork doll or puppet. A small stuffed animal with a freshened scent and shimmering tag. An action figure glistening in the plastic the box protects me with. The pa...