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Seasonal Depression
There’s a certain dread that comes to me around this time of year.Autumn hardly seems to exist in the more southern states of America, seemingly lasting anywhere from one week to one month at best.
Little Ghosts!!
In my recent years, I have become rather fond of little ghosts. This makes Halloween really rather exciting for me, because it is the perfect season to tell everyone how much I love little ghosts and why they should too, but I certainly do not confine my adoration of little ghosts to October.
Odisha: My Home Away From My Home
Many people define home as the address listed on your driver’s license. Where you were born. The town you may go to school in. But for me, Odisha has always felt like home.
Dinner Table
My home is soup.That’s not a metaphor, nor exaggeration. I do not live in a pot of broth, or eat it for every meal, but my home is still in soup. Specifically, the soup that my mother makes, simmering for hours in a large pot on the stove. It rolls off our Vietnamese tongues by practiced genes, and rolls back in by practiced appetites.
Home is Where My Heart Thrives
The most classic definition of home is “where one lives,” but I disagree. Sure, I live in my home, but that’s not my only refuge.
Found Family
I have seven siblings – one younger, six older. Only one of them, my younger brother, is actually related to me in any way. My six older siblings are my ‘honorary’ older siblings–my found family. I love my younger brother to the death, and I love my honorary older siblings just the same.
I'm Always Here
When I was younger, I thought the way people's brains worked was interesting. I loved learning about why someone might act or be a certain way. If I’m being honest, I've probably taken every personality test out there. My obsession with learning about people's personalities would eventually turn into me taking psychology classes and wanting to pursue that as a career.
The Nick of Names
What do we leave behind when we die?Most wish to leave behind good memories for their loved ones, maybe a will of their possessions and wealth to back it up. Some want their work to extend beyond personal relationships, to a fame that lasts for ages. Fewer beg to be remembered for anything at all, whether it be for a heart of gold or an unforgivable deed.
Tales Turned to Testimony
Following in my mother’s footsteps, my favorite book is The Handmaid's Tale, by Margaret Atwood. This isn’t a book report so I will not summarize it, although Atwood’s seemingly fantastical depiction of sexism should be noted. Gilead seemed widely improbable for years.
AN INTRODUCTION
This week, I was sifting through a box of cards I saved from my senior-year of high school. I am an immensely sentimental person who borderline hoards mementos - it was a big box. So many of the cards I got from my friends throughout senior-year said the same sort of thing- “I love you, I’m sorry you’re having a hard time, I’m here for you.” Over and over. Now, I have very little self-perception.