“Maybe that’s all we were. Dreamers.
And we knew the end was coming. Our end.”
Maybe that’s all we were. Dreamers. And somewhere, deep down, we knew the day would come that we would wake up and all of what we shared would be behind us. It was something we knew hovered on the horizon, but like any other mirage, we didn’t realize how close it was after all. And once it’s all said and done, the only thing that remains is memories. I have to admit, I wasn’t ready for reality to set in. I wasn’t ready for the end. Our end. But here we are, going our separate ways. I couldn’t help but wonder if we took a wrong turn somewhere. Nevertheless, the memories are all I have to hold on to.
— Sarah Doughty—
Forget the politics. Forget if you’re red or blue or a different color altogether. Becoming, by Michelle Obama speaks to the part of us that’s beyond that, to the humanity at our core. This is not so much a book about being a Former First Lady of the United States, but much more so a book about the incredible and inspirational story of a girl who could have been (and could still be) any of us—a girl who grew up not having much, who faltered and second-guessed herself, and who took the long way ’round to live a remarkable life.
I took my time reading this book, letting myself cry when a particularly poignant moment washed over me, pondering the existential questions Michelle asked herself (and in extension, us), and re-reading portions that encouraged me to reflect on my own self. Continue reading “My Favorite Quotes From Becoming, By Michelle Obama”
no one leaves home unless home chases you
fire under feet
hot blood in your belly
it’s not something you ever thought of doing
until the blade burnt threats into
and even then you carried the anthem under
only tearing up your passport in an airport toilet
sobbing as each mouthful of paper
made it clear that you wouldn’t be going back.
He only had time to grab his son and run. Together, they ran with the clothes on their back and their photo identification cards stuffed hastily in his pocket. They didn’t even have time to say goodbye.
Then again, there wasn’t much to say goodbye to. Behind them was fire, merciless and consuming, devouring each house like a starving dragon. Behind them were bodies, riddled with bullets, each hole dripping bloody dreams and hopes. Behind them were the graves of his wife and daughter, the screams of their last moments forever playing in his ears like a broken record.Continue reading “[Flash Fiction] Home”
“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”
— Emma Lazarus —
This is my first Writer’s Quote Wednesday post in more than a year, and since immigration is one of the topics at the forefront of politics nowadays, it seems fitting to share an excerpt from one of the world’s most renowned poems on immigrants. Continue reading “[Writer’s Quote Wednesday] The New Colossus”