Memories, Observations, Reflection

A River to Wash the Pain

I feel like I need to get this off of my chest: I lacked courage all along. Just now I asked myself "why don't I feel like writing even though I know I want to be an author?" yet another instance in scores of times. This time I answered myself honestly: "because I don't want… Continue reading A River to Wash the Pain

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Memories, Narrative, Reflection

Smashed Pear (entry fragment)

He left when he heard I was graduating. I wanted to follow him into the hallway and plead that I could drop my capstone class and hang around for another year but too many pieces of me were invested in matriculating. I wished him a good day and listened to the door shut behind him.… Continue reading Smashed Pear (entry fragment)

"Vile" from MM X series
Analysis, Reflection

Mega Man X Complex: Vile

Airplanes are the space-age cask for fermenting questions about memory and emotion. Jorge Luis Borges was a frequent ‘companion’ of mine on transcontinental flights but, as I returned from Iowa, I wanted only to gaze from the window. I was looking into the distance– imagining myself squeezing out the portal and running into the sun… Continue reading Mega Man X Complex: Vile

Analysis, Narrative, Observations, People, Reflection, Uncategorized

Epiphany & Beyond

I must be still, if I am to enter the chrysalis. In order to slough the thick skin that has retained my guts, along with all my potential, I have to allow my eyes to glaze over and the chill hunger of winter engulf me... Fireworks pierced the air above manger square, buzzing a passing… Continue reading Epiphany & Beyond

(Moltres outline)
Analysis, Humor, Memories, Narrative, Observations, People, Quirky, Reflection, Uncategorized

The Phoenix in the Olive Tree

The phoenix of popular imagination does not belong flat on his back, atop a broken couch and cuddled with his trumpet, in the cave beneath the Zoughbi house. I was sore from the previous night’s stress-release workout. Still, by the time Rajaee found me in my hiding place, my brain was busy piecing apart the… Continue reading The Phoenix in the Olive Tree

Observations, Reflection

Torn to Pieces

I was walking up the street with my new colleague from Sweden (Dawwid) and I noticed all the little ones from the nearby girls’ elementary school scampering down the hill in their matching dresses. It bubbled to mind how I miss writing about the intimate details of peoples’ lives in Palestine. Last fall at this… Continue reading Torn to Pieces

Memories, Narrative

Anchor, Pipe, and Needle: Bethlehem Ink

I remember the day I lost it. My mother would have disapproved. We squished together onto the back of a motorcycle and rode through the Philippine jungle to a series of small waterfalls. There, all the knots in my torso came undone in the fast, cool water. I relaxed and swam. Dante* was sitting in… Continue reading Anchor, Pipe, and Needle: Bethlehem Ink