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It’s disgusting how we’ve left living–what a beautiful thing–to the few. Life as we know it is about making life better than others at the expense of your own. That’s love. The act of time, sacrifice, attention. Not in the transactional sense, but love is about giving. Life is never meant to all be happy but I do presume that there should be more good than bad. But what have we done as a society? From our markets to relationships, we treat everything as if it is finite and the few and up hoarding so much. There are millions out there suffering, as there are people who suffer so much that the very few moments of hope (and the way people play with this bar for hope) are all we cling onto. Is this what we want? Life is about making it better for others in an unjust world. So they don’t fall below a net happy. So there is still goodness and worth. Inevitably, for a few it’s simply not worth it. You could …

Before I do, I must fight

I feel like I’ve aged a lot in the past week. I’ve been swept by scary news around my family, almost-homelessness in a country 8,000 miles away, my loved ones back in Manila in lockdown in a state that has essentially imposed martial law, the loss of life-changing opportunities that I had thought beckoned the fight and narrative of why I chose to come to America, and so much more. Turning 20 in the midst of a global pandemic, I write to you from a dormitory in my campus, now more still than ever. For every student who talks about how New Haven is boring (or worse, scary) is always so mistaken. There are no cars on the street in the dead of night, no lights in the Saybrook courtyard anymore, I am the sound of what is left. * Time right now is not difficult because social distancing it’s hard. It’s difficult because my brain is scrambling for the sense of normalcy prior, even if it were a disjoint existence. We’ll see more of …

POST Adolescence

I frequently forget that when Will Toledo released Twin Fantasy, he was the age I am today. At nineteen and in college, a lull in life that I can’t characterize with anything but the feeling of being outcast and past my prime–my fears all center around whether I have already been at my most prolific.