Photo by Isabel Mecaller

I now hate mornings. Most people get off their beds, ready to sip their coffee then listen to the background noise of nature while staring at their plants, but I find agony from the moment sunlight blinds my eyes.

This pandemic made me hate mornings. I still remember my pre-pandemic life; going to school was a pain in the ass, but it has an unexplainable warmth it gives. Despite the need to wake up an hour earlier than my first subject’s time, it emits energy and motivation, like you’re looking forward to that day.

Before, I usually get up around…

Photo was taken during my Junior High School days.

I’ve been fighting a battle, a monster, worst than any villain in a movie. It will eat you up, feel you dead, and make you wish you were never here in this land. I think everyone is with me because our greatest enemy is ourselves.

I remember spending a significant portion of my Senior High school trying to get my life together. Junior high school was tough for me. I was insecure for a long time and pretentious so that people will like me. I was trying to fit in so I wouldn’t get nitpicked by a group of people…

Screencap from Sex Education’s Season 2, Episode 7

One Netflix Day:

I was just scrolling around Netflix, finding the perfect show to watch until I stumble upon Sex Education. Not going to lie; the title caught my attention. I became curious, and to my surprise, the show was educational, relatable, and unique.

“It’s just a stupid bus.” That iconic line from Sex Education is simple yet powerful. I still remember hearing that line on that particular scene; instead of triggering an unfortunate event, it gave me so much comfort.

Behind that line is the story of Aimee, who was once sexually assaulted on the bus. Traumatized by the…

a folklore-inspired poem.

photo from @taylornation13

hoax love

passed down like folklore,
our love lasted, not ’til august
you returned my favorite cardigan,
then i saw you walk away in peace

and as the clock strikes seven,
i’m ready to cut the invisible string
now you left a madwoman,
helplessly dancing with a mirrorball

Ira Madel

sanctuary of thoughts

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