First Stop: Brooklyn
Nestled about a twenty-minute walk from the Brooklyn Bridge is an inconspicuous little Thai restaurant. Its twin awnings are black, its frames wooden, and if you’re looking for a sign, you won’t find it. Welcome to Joya!
I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve got three words to describe summer in New York this year: Hot, Humid, Hell. And whatever temperature it is in the city, it’s always at least 15 degrees hotter underground on the subway platforms. Am I sweating? Am I melting? Am I secretly the Wicked Witch of the West?
Thankfully, my inner fangirl has plenty of distractions this summer:
Remember this post when I was screaming incoherently over Wonderwoman’s brief appearance in Batman v. Superman? Guys, her movie was SO GOOD. The best friend and I walked out of the movie theater feeling so pumped, we were swearing up and down that we could take on any poor soul who dared to challenge us. That evening, we were five-feet-tall BADASSES, OKAY? Continue reading “Wonderwomen, Nostalgia, & Game of Thrones”
“I sense colors in you. They’re strong and beautiful…and sad. I wondered what your colors were for a long time. They’re the colors of the sunset…the blazing shades of a sunset that burn just before the darkness sets in.”
—Fuyumi Soryo, MARS—
We’re traveling to Japan this week for our Writer’s Quote Wednesday. About a decade ago, I started reading manga, which is a type of Japanese graphic novel. One of the first manga series I ever picked up was titled MARS, and I devoured this love story between a shy art student and a rebellious motorcycle racer. Before I knew it, I was falling in love, having my heart broken, and crying tears—both of sadness and of joy—when I flipped the last page. I left a piece of my heart between the pages of this story and I think in return, MARS made a home in that missing piece.
On the bathroom floor,
Glass shard in hand,
It catches the light,
Is this the end?
And the tears, they
Bounce off the glass.
Shutting my eyes, I’ll
Just make this fast. Continue reading “[Poetry] The Choice”
Sharing to spread awareness of Writeritis.
I knew I wasn’t the only one who got anxious over commas!
*Note: When I reblogged Diana’s post, my blog automatically changed the font to my settings (and I can’t revert it). If you’re having trouble reading, please click the link below to read the original post on her blog, or click here.
This 2-yr-old post was one of my most popular, and for those who missed it, I once again share the symptoms of this incurable condition.
As some of you know, a pervasive syndrome has troubled a segment of society for centuries. After years of research, the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders finally classified these symptoms under the diagnosis: Writeritis.
Writeritis is defined as a persistent, maladaptive pattern of writing that leads to clinically significant impairment or distress, as manifested by six (or more) of the following within a single month:
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I remember when your tiny hands,
Found their home in mine,
With your body resting lightly,
In between my arms,
The rush each night for more milk,
And the tricks to quieten your cries,
I remember it like yesterday,
The day- you became mine.
And the first time you said mama,
When your feet first hit the floor,
Your first tooth and first tooth gap,
My Jaan I remember it all,
When you said you hated purple,
And we fought at the toy store,
How you’d make up, saying I love you,
My Jaan I remember it all.
The rickety ladder of the fire escape swayed as he climbed. Paint from the rungs peeled off and stuck to his palms. The metal cans clanged in his backpack, but he kept up his steady climb.
Reaching the rooftop, he hoisted himself up and swung his legs over, rolling onto his side with the ease of someone who had done this many times. He allowed himself a moment to admire the sight: luxury condominiums touching the sky, the 7 train chugging along, and a bird’s eye view of the living collage of graffiti artwork that covered the walls of the building he was standing on. Continue reading “[Flash Fiction] The Mural”
With no land in sight
Perhaps, it’s better to sink.
To hear something other than the noise
Of every thought I think.
You were my life raft
My reason to be strong.
I wonder how long it’ll take
To drown in this sea of sad songs.
© Jade M. Wong 2017 Continue reading “[Poetry] Sea of Sad Songs”
“56,788…56,789…56,000—NO!” He flinched as the plastic cup holding his just-counted staples toppled over and the staples in question cascaded back onto the dirt.
“Whoopsie-daisy, did I just kick over all your hard work?”
“I now know, you must endure things you cannot endure, be worn out by the things you cannot accept, that there are nights when your eyes are brimming with tears. And daresay I know… what you’ve dreamt of, and what you’ve lost.”
“I place my hand on your forehead. You, have lived diligently. Please place a hand on my forehead too. The moment one person leaves their fingerprints on another forehead and comforts him, all the frivolous things fall by the wayside, and the silence we never took advantage of while we were engulfed with desire will embrace us.”
“You’ve, worked hard, to live, to survive, you’ve worked hard to get this far. I pray that the happiest moments of your life are yet to come.”
—Jung Hee Jae, Perhaps, The Words I Wish To Hear Most—