Am I a writer? No, I don’t think so. Sure, I write. But, I am not a writer. The others are writers, not me. A writer is the journalist who lives a glamorous lifestyle traversing the globe unearthing gritty stories. A writer is the essayist whose byline appears in glossy…

An amalgamation of memories, hours and days and months strung together in sequential order, then sifted and twisted, until they’ve chronicled years, decades, a lifetime. A sloppy stew…

“I’m not different for the sake of being different, only for the desperate sake of being myself. I can’t join your gang: you’d think I was a phony…

The Tree stands tall and majestic in the heavy stillness of twilight, when daylight is waning and nightfall hasn’t yet taken hold. There is a raw ambiguity in…