About Not Writing

    I used to measure the timeline of my life through journals. When a friend said to me, “Remember that time – “, I’d think in my head yes, from the red journal. That system kind of shattered when I was gifted two identical books, but the main ones still stick out in my mind. […]

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The Blinking Cursor

Never mistake silence for weakness. Remember that sometimes the air stills, before the onset of a hurricane – Nikita Gill, Her Silence I tried to write this post on a Friday night. I leaned back in my bed, opened up a blank page on my laptop and stared at the cursor, blinking at me tauntingly; I […]

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A Nuanced Pause

In my cupboard live about thirty notebooks, journals and binders, all different books of some description. I’m typing this piece on my blog, which showcases stuff that’s been compulsory in my classes and other things I’m proud of, or want to explore. This stuff will become, if it hasn’t already, the window an employer will […]

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The Bureau Drawer

“Do you know what a poem is, Esther?” “No, what?” I would say. “A piece of dust.” (Sylvia Plath) We exist in an odd shell. Fragility is a rich, red blood and society is a shark – but you’re protected by a shark net. You’re just bleeding out in the ocean, dying slowly, whilst the […]

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“It” is a Fragile Promise

The fireplace, which used to be the centre of the house and a node of comfort and warmth, became angry. It would shake and roar. Maybe we had made it anxious too; during that last year especially, it stopped being a friend.

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Autoethnography and the Power of Stories

  “Let me live, love, and say it well in good sentences” Sylvia Plath Sylvia Plath lived a short life decorated with vibrant but dark emotions, before she succeeded in her second attempt at suicide. Her later pieces, written from a freezing cold flat in London, often between 1am and 4am whilst her young children […]

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