A time jump into the future—my 46-year-old self revisits her old countryside home in Romania, where she used to spend her childhood summers. She finds an old journal of hers, uncovering deep memories.
I am shy. I don’t seem like the shy type with my friends because I’m the loud one. But when I talk to someone who doesn’t know how I tick, I act like I’m listening while I am melting inside.
Welcome to deconstructed. — fostering a community that draws attention to mental health through creative writing and art & resources for marginalized groups.
New York skyscrapers are far from the sky-scraping Smoky Mountains, and in combining our stories, we shared our fierce pride for our homes and the inherent poetry there is in growing up in these places.
A lot of my writing is related to loss—in this case, it’s old friends. Though I’ve yet to attend a loved one’s funeral, I find myself grieving people who are still alive.