Self Notes

Burned Hours

A friend of mine recently coined a term that I have not been able to shake off ever since: Burned Hours. At first glance, it sounds harmless. It sounds like […]

To the World

Regarding Borders

In the turquoise waters between the southern Philippines and northern Indonesia, an elderly man from Watunapatto sits in a small wooden boat he built himself from trees felled from the […]

Self Notes

Ode to the Empty Chair

There are morningswhen silence has a heartbeat. Not loud.Not dramatic. Just…persistent. The house still hums,but it hums with absence.Every ticking clock rehearses a languageI used to know— your language. A […]