asian american millennial full of existential angst
The Final Ashes
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. "Finally, I thought to myself. It's time." I swiftly and silently made my way up to the attic in my dimly lit house. Under a small window in view of the village, I pried a pre-packed bag out of a hidden compartment in the wall alongside a candle of my own. I fumbled through my pack to grab my match book. The smell of sulfur filled my nostrils as I struck a match to light the candle. A chill of excitement flowed down my spine as I placed my own beacon of hope in the window.
Cycle Breaker Magic
My father was five years old when he first came to America as a refugee during the Vietnam war. The trauma this man has overcome is astounding. Even though our family doesn’t have an enchanted house with magic doors or super powers, I wholeheartedly believe that he is a cycle breaker that is just built differently.
I can hardly believe these pictures, even though I was behind the camera. Kiwi was not even a year old, a psychotic ball of energy with no attention span. Even though she has always been an amazing trail dog, this moment in itself was something that made my heart skip a beat.
Heavy steam on the windows meant it was time to go. The temperature outside was dipping, and the lake outside had sheets of ice shattering into the shore. Even though I was in my classic flannel and beanie, my friends were all in the skin tight kind of dresses that score free drinks and less than sensible footwear.