Illustrations by Jaimee Haddad
I woke up this morning with unruly thoughts ricocheting in my head. I pulled out my angsty, confessional playlist: Amy Winehouse’s “Back to Black,” Lorde’s “Writer in the Dark/Liability,” “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” et al. When you know you know: It was time to jot my rumination down before it poured out of my mouth like human repellent.Flashback to when someone whom I love dearly said, “Nobody does copy like you.” I don’t think she knew just how much it meant to me. Nothing helps me connect with others like writing, which is why it both swells my heart and terrifies me.I’ve believed since fifth grade that the only thing I touch that doesn’t turn to ruin or run for the hills is pen to paper, and I live in paralyzing fear that someday words, too, will leave me.The kicker is that punchlines elude me today, so, for once, I’ll spare you...
I woke up this morning with unruly thoughts ricocheting in my head. I pulled out my angsty, confessional playlist: Amy Winehouse’s “Back to Black,” Lorde’s “Writer in the Dark/Liability,” “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” et al. When you know you know: It was time to jot my rumination down before it poured out of my mouth like human repellent.Flashback to when someone whom I love dearly said, “Nobody does copy like you.” I don’t think she knew just how much it meant to me. Nothing helps me connect with others like writing, which is why it both swells my heart and terrifies me.I’ve believed since fifth grade that the only thing I touch that doesn’t turn to ruin or run for the hills is pen to paper, and I live in paralyzing fear that someday words, too, will leave me.The kicker is that punchlines elude me today, so,...
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