“For despite the great efforts of traditional historians, the past is not something that can be kept in order—kept in place.” – Jennifer A. Gonzalez

On a map I could draw lines from Britain to Jamaica to Canada, but I could never position myself in one place. I felt my identity was always in transit: I was the journey of one country to another and never the country itself. —from my journal: "My Time with Isaac"

Open Letter About This Week

This week tried to kill me. This week tried to diminish my flame and send me home packing my bags, and back to my mother's house. This week had the Gods throwing pellets to see if when they hit I'd crumble under the impact. I didn't. Six days ago I realized I couldn't pay all... Continue Reading →

Today's trials and tribulations are especially heavy. While I pride myself on having this resilience, perseverance and this strength sometimes it seems childish and naive. There must be stars in my eyes to think that this place can be one of happiness. I find myself wondering why no one appears unless things are especially terrible,... Continue Reading →

Virtual Safe Spaces: Habbo Hotel

I've been playing Habbo Hotel since 2006. I'd sign on, visit a popular space and make new friends. When it comes to thinking about virtual safe spaces the phrase itself can seem contradictory. For example, I entirely avoid the YouTube comment section when Cheescaleigh uploads a video on MTV's Decoded. Francesca even mentioned that she had... Continue Reading →

“Songs of Protest”

Phil Ochs' Here's to the State of Mississippi  Here's to the state of Mississippi For underneath her borders, the devil draws no lines If you drag her muddy river, nameless bodies you will find Whoa, the fat trees of the forest have hid a thousand crimes The calender is lyin' when it reads the present... Continue Reading →

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