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The image a child has of his father is that of brawn. A monument to all that is good and strong in the world, an eternal force that will watch over them and theirs.

The image a child has of her mother is that of care. A testament to beauty and love’s fragrance made manifest, the one person on Earth that deserves to remain oblivious of pain.

Children are not supposed to be strong. Children are not supposed to be challenged in the ways that adults are. That is the burden of the parent. …

Intellectualizing trauma and the things we do to cope is bad. But so is contextualizing that within a binary framework. There is no room for growth, for imagination, for all the lives we’ve yet to live between the white space of letters. Things simply are or they are not.

It’s difficult in the sense that, it too, is a coping mechanism. We spend all this time investigating and reading and learning about everything but ourselves, sinking hours and days and maybe even years telling ourselves that “we need to know more.”

More about what, exactly?

You and I know that…

If there was only one feeling I could use to describe my life, it’d be anxiety. Not the type of anxiety that swallows you whole, the blissful sort that keeps you from making decisions. It’s the kind that holds you by the hand and takes charge, as any good adult should.

My anxiety is far less benevolent. It teeters on the edge of sublimation and totality, walking on the knife’s edge. It’s suicidal. It doesn’t know what it wants, if it should stay or go, which makes it all the more unbearable.

It leaves me with just enough common sense…

Race in America is a controversial issue. Sensitive. Taboo, even. Seemingly always has been. And it looks like it’ll stay that way.

Maybe if we stop talking about it, it’ll go away. We’ll create a post-racial society where the only race that matters is the human race. We’ll move beyond Affirmative Action and see people not as demographics, but as individuals, as the competent, hardworking people that they are.

We’ll stop being so sensitive and learn how to take a joke. We’ll stop ruining the mood at parties or at cocktail dinners. We’ll go back to the ways things used…

What is most remarkable about the first generation experience is that it is so utterly banal. Every child is acutely aware of their socioeconomic circumstances; though it might not register immediately on an intellectual level, it certainly manifests itself on an emotional one: the underlying anxiety when the word “bills” creeps into conversation; the emotional isolation as a byproduct of a perpetually working parent; the distinct feeling that something isn’t quite right, as they watch the other kids get ready for band practice or games, quietly looking on until they become the last child in the pick-up lot.

As they…

They die in the end. But they don’t know that. But now you do!

What do you care? You haven’t even met them yet. Maybe you’ll make a point of doing your best not to like them. After all, it’s my job to make sure that you do, and your job to put up with my job. If I do my job well enough you might not even notice that it’s happening.

What if I told you that these were star-crossed lovers? They weren’t. They’re actually close childhood friends that bonded in the wake of Character A, Beatrice’s, mother’s death…

Preserving White Hegemony


In a post-Jim Crow America, discussions on race and racial privilege are seldom expressed without an underlying feeling of discomfort or anger. These racialized emotions play help to perpetuate and solidify the “epistemology of ignorance.” Through this epistemology, white privilege becomes reified and colorblind racism is perpetuated. This essay seeks to define, discuss, and elaborate upon this epistemology through the lenses of social interaction and social media.

Keywords: Colorblind racism, white supremacy, white privilege, racialized emotions, epistemology of ignorance.

The Spirit of Ignorance: Preserving White Hegemony

The foundations of American society are built on notions of white supremacy and racial…

In 250–500 words, describe how a life experience has challenged you. What did you learn from it? How has it helped you to become a better person?

My life has been nothing but struggle and turmoil. I am caught between two worlds, too white to play with the Vietnamese and too chink to play with the Americans. My parents are refugees. My grandfather was left to rot in a prison camp for half a decade after the fall of Saigon, and my grandmother peddled cigarettes and other stupid baubles to keep them alive in his absence. My entire life has…

There’s a certain magnetism on a dance floor that isn’t quite explainable. The liquor pounds between his ears and the music and lights rattle a caged consciousness, all the while inhibitions run free. Flashes of light gives him glimpses into the dynamism of humanity, of romance, of desperate, carnal lust. There is a couple dancing in the corner of your eye; he can see fingers run across the length of a wispy outline, see hips curve into torsos and lips pressed against cheekbones. …

The personification of God, of the Creator, of the Universe, even, are all exercises in futility. Religion has attempted to make sense from that which cannot be understood, has sought to tell stories from things that have no beginning and no end. To question the will of the Creator is sacrosanct; to assign morality or logic to their whims, to try and force abstraction upon something some unfathomably foreign, is heresy.

And yet here we are.

Generally speaking there are two major themes within religious canon. The former seeks to humanize the Creator, to assign qualities like vice and lust…


mostly unedited and unfiltered takes on contemporary politics and culture that nobody asked for. sometimes i’ll write fiction. aspiring bureaucrat.

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