I awoke this morning to the pouring rain and a pit in my stomach. No. Tutors. Today. Which meant I had about 14 hours of one-on-one time with Takkin, nonstop. I decided, despite the rain, to head 2.5 hours down south to Charlottesville to visit my alma mater, UVA, and my friend Michael. That was … More Day 6 with Takkin
Welp, the dinner party is off. And Cry #1 of 5 has commenced. I had to cancel an hour beforehand because Takkin is a monster. I am sitting at my grandmother’s house shaking as I write these words because I just got two remote controls thrown at my head and was yelled at for 10 … More Day 5 with Takkin
I managed to get away for a few hours today to see some coworkers and then visit my 90 year old grandmother. She was sitting up in bed, her legs sticking out of her torso like toothpicks. I kissed her once on each cheek and sat down next to her so we could chat for … More Day 4 with Takkin
Time is an interesting thing. It goes fast and slow. It creeps up on you, and then recedes, slinks away into the shadows. Time is a flat circle. Nah, just playin’. But time sure is a son-of-a-bitch. For one thing, my time in Virginia feels never-ending. We spent almost the entire day out. Takkin didn’t … More Day 3 with Takkin
He doesn’t ever stop talking. An incessant stream of words come out of his mouth with hardly a breath in between. He talks to me, he calls random people (like my grandmother’s 90 year old friends), he says hello how are you have a good night to people on the street–even it it’s the middle of … More Day 2 with Takkin
I arrived at 8:30 this morning and was greeted by my dad and brother at the airport, which was somewhat shocking since my dad was supposed to be on a plane to Iran. His flight last night had gotten canceled. He’s leaving tonight, fingers crossed, since Takkin seems to be much worse around him and … More Day 1 with Takkin
I’ve spent 25 minutes looking at this blank screen in front of me. I don’t think I know how to string together a series of words anymore. It’s been at least two months since I wrote something, and even then I believe what I wrote was probably hot garbage. At this point in my life, … More I Stopped Writing. Here’s Why.