• Travel Diary,  Writer's Cafe

    Of Coconuts and Sticky Rice Cakes

    I had my first taste of Thailand’s famous iced coffee at the Damnoensaduak Floating Market. For the days to come, we would all buy iced coffee every chance we got. It was sweetened with condensed milk – something that made it taste better than the usual. I had been doing the same to my coffee when I was in design school, it was the only way I could stomach drinking 2-3 large cups a day to power through late nights of coding and designing. Aside from the iced coffee, we noticed the altars on almost every road. This was something quite grandiose and new to our eyes. We were born…

  • Essays

    Into the Cocoon

    Baby Steps. I always seem to find myself from ground zero everywhere I go. People always say it’s a good thing. Marissa Meyers was quoted saying: “I always did something I was a little not ready to do. I think that’s how you grow. When there’s that moment of ‘Wow, I’m not really sure I can do this,’ and you push through those moments, that’s when you have a breakthrough.”  But it doesn’t really feel good when you’re the one being pushed against the wall, does it? There is something depressing about being at the bottom and wanting to get to the top without knowing how. When I was in…

  • Fiction,  Writer's Cafe

    Something Salty

    I stared at my phone, wondering how you got my number. But I guess it didn’t matter, you were already asking questions with a sense of urgency you did not deserve. You asked, could we meet? anywhere! It was all up to me. You just needed some answers. Closure. I try to scan through my memories. The last time you ever crossed my mind was two months ago. I was in the office kitchen, looking out the window, waiting for the water to come to a boil. I thought then “wow, I haven’t even thought of him or found any reminders of him. It’s almost as if he never existed.” It was amazing to feel that…

  • Essays,  Writer's Cafe

    Do Not Pour Oil on Water

    I am water. I flow freely and take the form of anything that tries to shape me. I seep through little cracks and holes and go as far as the currents take me. He is oil. And although he can take any form he wants, he is closed off from anything outside his element. Water cannot permeate through him. But through anything else, water can. And so, maybe this is how we are. We live amiably, side by side. We touch but never intertwine.