Shopping for (the right) therapy.

No, not shopping for therapy. I mean, shopping for the right therapy! The last time I saw a therapist was when I was at my 1st year of university in 2012 mourning the death of my high-school relationship (it was my first, emotionally and sexually invested relationship, guys!). The therapist was a rather young, white woman… Continue reading Shopping for (the right) therapy.

Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness of Musicians

When I was a teenager, I began to take an interest to listening to music. I was never confident or articulate enough to look into my immature, teenage brain to ask openly (to anyone who was willing to hang out with me) ‘Why do I like music?’ or, ‘Why do people like music so much?’ My… Continue reading Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness of Musicians

Do I have to?

By the end of my 4 hour, grueling interview, up against at least 10 other candidates for a administration role at a rather prestigious university, I walked up to a seemingly unperturbed, Asian bus lady starting her Marlboro light. ‘Uh, excuse me,’ I politely asked, clasping my hands in gentle prayer. ‘Could I scab one… Continue reading Do I have to?

My therapist told me to ‘write it out’.

I hate writing. Why? I don’t exactly hate writing. Currently as a (tryingly) functional member of society, part of the criteria is being able to communicate through spoken and written language with fluency. I understand the philosophy behind written language, it’s literally a tradition that’s been passed down throughout the historical inception of spoken language. Written… Continue reading My therapist told me to ‘write it out’.