Passion comes in different voices.
The air rushed in through the half-opened windows, blowing my weaves so hard across my face and all I could think of was how relieving it felt. Continue reading “Chasing Paper.”
It’s not you, it’s me.
“No written word, no spoken plea can teach our youth what they should be; nor all the books on all the shelves”
“You should be more open?” she said in a rather disapproving tone, “No one has time to wait on you to start talking, you would lose out if you remain like this.”
Continue reading “Just be yourself! Really just?”