There is a brief, unsettling moment when you wake up from a dream and still don’t know who you’re meant to be. Both the wakeful and dream worlds are equally true in that liminal space. The pillow you’re holding and the lover who just left your arms have the same ontological weight. No less real…
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Just heard Grandma let out a rather sudden hiss that cut through the afternoon quiet like a blade through silk. She is sitting alone at the kitchen table, no book before her, no radio playing, no conversation partner to provoke displeasure. Yet something has reached across time to touch her – some fragment of memory…
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While listening to a talk by Jon Ronson last week, I recalled a childhood experience that I recounted in a letter some time ago. Today, I’d like to share Ronson‘s talk, and will be introducing the talk with this excerpt from the letter: … …It was probably in the American equivalent of sixth grade. Our English teacher presented us with a comprehension…
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I am a Christian. Yep, that controversial religion that has caused deaths, crusades, and chaos… That’s the one. This is a short essay about my journey on faith. While presented as a case, my intention is not to persuade, but to describe the process of my thought on the subject. Faith is not for people…
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