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“Hunger leaves an impression on you that you can’t forget. Even when you aren’t still hungry. Even in his 80s, my grandfather wouldn’t waste any type of food. Not only…

“Amazing how much an elbow can bleed. Blood all around: on my clothes, on the varnished wood stairs… my father continues flailing, lashing, screaming at me, blinded by his tsunami…

A reflective and emotionally nuanced reclaiming of Jennifer’s Body as a cult queer artifact—lush in mid‑2000s Gothic nostalgia and feminine agency.

“My brother, I decided, was so awfully angry, brimmed with fuming, outrageous words that he’d sewn and strung together in long, awkward streams that slammed into my heart because he…

A generational meditation on memory, identity, and affirmation through intimate portraits of self, mother, and a fading patriarch.