Those unbearable moments of someone disappearing, or worse, someone disapproving of appearing. It’s a different kind of sadness. There’s a certain detachment from whatever one is surrounded with when her body is somewhere else but still permeating every fiber of your being because moments ago you talked, laughed, missed. But if you go to sleep…

Being reminded of something, to me, only occurs when you are seeing something that is not part of what you are remembering. Otherwise, one would only call into conscious what was always connected to that very object. Seeing myself in this picture, I remember the smell of caustic acetone in that room, I remember my…

I met Mickey Mouse in a reception hall in Paris. He was very sweet. I stared at him, waiting for his squeaky voice to speak to me, for his animal body to embrace my small human frame. But he just took me into his arms while his face appeared to freeze. And I guess I…

  There was so much quietness. Better: noiselessness. The opposite of clamor, so many voices speaking soundlessly to the beautiful brashness of crockery, mother’s eyes pointing towards bread, hands dashing across the table. I can breathe easily, I can see myself saying, I can easily breathe. And then, someone leans back into the chair, let…

My father used to call me out when I was losing empathy. I can’t sleep at night, you know? We got some food and we were sitting in the car and he stared through the window pane and he could not look at me, for he knew I was drunk and slowly breaking. And when…