🦇

We did meet. Nineteen years ago. I was 8, you were 9. Outside the temple. The Wong boys were taunting me about my parents’ divorce. You beat the crap out of them. You were wearing a Kristy McNichol t-shirt, tan cords and a pageboy. You spilled your mom’s groceries. We scooped them into a bag. And then I kissed you…on the nose. And you ran.

Hannibal (2013-2015)

“Mads took it upon himself to heighten the tension by throwing the books as close to me as he could. There was a lot of flinching.”

We, the people on this island, are not important. The island and the nutrients it provides exist in their most perfect state without us gathering them, or manipulating them, or digesting them. What happens inside this room is meaningless compared to what happens outside in nature, in the soil, in the water, in the air. We are but a frightened nanosecond. Nature is timeless.

The daughter of a legendary thief, who sewed winter coats out of stolen purses. Herself a thief, pickpocket, swindler. The savior who came to tear my life apart. My Tamako. My Sook-hee.

the female gaze

But everything changed when I met you I find I walk in Technicolor now

the kiss.

it takes a few years, but they break bones.