• caution ice falling sign near walls

    Reflection on cruelty and obedience

    Roughly six million Jews. Six million Jews were exterminated by Nazi Germany. Ever since I learned this as a young girl; ever since I can remember, one question persists: How did no one stop it sooner? How was this even possible? How did so many people simply obey? It felt implausible that a human being could go home at night and fall into a peaceful sleep after inflicting so much suffering. Inconceivable that an entire army could agree to carry out one egotistical, despicable, small man’s wish. How did so many people just… agree? How did cruelty become routine? How did obedience outweigh conscience? And yet, for a long time,…

  • A black and white image of a hand holding a heart-shaped object, symbolizing love.

    Mean every word

    Every word on here is or once was a piece of me. I mean what I say. I write what I mean. Some stories get twisted in the mix. But I always come back to me. It always comes back to me. One of the hardest parts of wearing your heart on your sleeve is you expect honesty from everyone you meet. You assume that vulnerability will be mirrored, that speaking your truth will invite truth tellers; that someone will handle your unvarnished feelings with the same care. Well, it doesn’t always happen that way. Sometimes people take your openness as an invitation, and sometimes they take it as an…

  • woman on bike reaching for man's hand behind her also on bike

    Late to the drama party but never late to the commentary

    My first blog post of 2026 is a rather trivial one. With so much unhappiness going on, I thought I’d keep it light. So let’s jump right in. The thing is this: I am not much of a television buff. When faced with the choice between doing chores, creating something, or being lazy on the couch, the latter is almost never an option. I have to be under strict doctor’s orders, exhausted beyond reason, or maybe just a little depressed to sit down in front of a TV on purpose. And last month, that’s exactly what happened. I couldn’t lift a finger due to sickness. So I forced myself to…

  • pensive woman wearing gray top looking side way

    The turning of years

    With the turning of the year comes the weight of reflection. Silent, yet inevitable. Today I think of the quiet goodbyes, and the loud ones that echoed through 2025, like whispers in a rainstorm. Even when doubt clouds my heart, I wonder if endings are tethered to some unseen reason, a thread woven too fine to see, but which pulls us in ways we don’t understand The way the universe spins with purpose, sometimes sharp, sometimes soft; strategically breaking hearts, strategically mending us, it’s hard to tell if we’ll ever know what (if any) good reasons it may have. But I’ve learned that one has to learn to let go.…

  • empty table for two at a restaurant

    The weight of knowing

    What’s worse? Being hit all at once unexpectedly or being hit after having had the chance to brace for impact? Being blindsided is quite impactful, but being proven right can also have a strong kind of reckoning. It is frankness vs betrayal. In a perfect world, we wouldn’t need to choose how we’d like to be “wounded” because everything would flow in a gentler way. But it is not a perfect world. Sometimes, we’re caught off guard…even after knowing what’s coming. And transitioning from that limbo can be challenging, regardless of whether we’d been warned or not But somewhere between those two, lies the quiet ache of truth; the truth we…

  • person holding yellow flowers during daytime

    Radically warm

    How cold have we become that some call a genuine smile and human touch oddly warm?  How guarded have we become that speaking openly about your struggles sounds brave? We talk about social construct as a foreign occurrence, when in reality, it happens right before our eyes…every day. A conditioned mind programmed to act accordingly and accept only what’s in trend — that’s what we became.  We applaud vulnerability like it’s a performance, yet tremble at the thought of  being truly seen.  We crave connection like oxygen, but ration it like we’re facing famine, afraid someone might take more than they deserve. Or worse, discover our lack of it.  When…

  • a woman in a polka dot dress holding a leaf

    In the soft light of November I remember

    I don’t know what led to what first; the warmth in my embrace, the cold side of my bed, the soft Christmas songs whispering the arrival of a new season. How ironic that forgetting was how I remembered the memories that survived Memory is a cruel tide rushing in only when the shore has grown quiet again, when I finally stopped searching for your face in crowds, stopped replaying the end like a scratched vinyl that’s when your name came back to the tip of my tongue, weightless uninvited like a ghost tapping the glass just to prove it still knows the way home. And maybe that’s all love ever…

  • two red and white signs hanging from a metal pole

    The Desire Vs the Duty: choosing wisely?

    There’s a constant tug-of-war between the quiet joy of creating and the loud demands of survival. Never would I have ever imagined how powerful the tension between those two would be. Thing is I want to chase my dreams, but I also need to pay rent!  Being a creative soul and a responsible do-right, law-abiding citizen don’t go hand in hand, my friends. I mean, how can that even work when you’re just a DIY indie creator who can’t afford all the emotional and financial demands society has set forth for you?  What I want to do? I dream of mornings doing nothing but writing, observing, dancing, creating… Evenings lost…

  • woman in black dress lying on bed

    Haunting Sunday

    Sunday blues this early morning, I hold my chest and close my eyes, wish I could escape from this war where dreams fade and silence lies The tea cools, the clock keeps tickingits hands like ghosts that never rest, In this hollow space I find myself slipping into a world that feels half-possessed The walls feel closer, the air thinner, a quiet ache I can’t ignore for all the places I’ve never been and all the things I can’t restore So here I linger, lost and fading between the should-have-beens and might, a tender heart forever waiting for Sunday’s dawn to give me light.

  • A letter from the ashes

    How can you not get political in 2025? I am disturbed, saddened, and disappointed when I find out someone doesn’t care for what’s happening around us. It feels like the world has always been on fire, but when it’s closer to home; when the flames reach your doorstep, when the smoke fills your lungs, it hits different, as they say. And today, after watching the vandalizing of the White House by MAGA Republicans, something inside me cracked. Never, NOT IN A BILLION YEARS, would I have imagined the United States of America under siege by its own president. Illegitimate, nonetheless, but the one sitting in power…for now. (And yes, I…