Cricket, croooaaak, cricket... cricket. CROAAAK.
The sounds of mid-April spring sprang sporadically across the Langley grove. Colours of deep-set purple, woven with hints of pink and blue, spread across the sky as dusk lazily began its nightly ritual. Out in the backyard of our temporary escape, I lit a fire
Cross-cultural relationships inevitably bring unique dynamics to the surface, moments where understanding takes a little more effort, especially when navigating language nuances – even with my admittedly rudimentary Korean. Things might get misinterpreted or momentarily confused, but looking back, navigating these hurdles together is often how the relationship finds deeper, calmer
Here's the thing:
I despise writing.
Not because it's boring – far from it. Like many people, perhaps, I often find I can express myself much better on the page than I ever could out loud. No, I hate it because I can't shake the
There's a current of prejudice, isn't there? A systemic whisper that echoes in nearly every corner of this planet. We can't truly escape it, unfortunately, but perhaps the imperative isn't solely to point fingers outward, but also to turn our gaze inward,
I almost started this with the cliché "Vancouver in the 2000s was different than it is now..." but slammed the backspace key in a spasm. I don't want to be that kind of writer. Instead, let me tell you what feels the same, what persists despite
Pessimism feels like my default setting – not by choice, mind you. My brain seems hardwired to jump straight to the worst-case scenario in any situation, maybe as a way to brace myself for trouble before it hits. I suspect it’s a defense mechanism forged in elementary school, where I
