You do not recognize
the bodies in the water

You do not recognize the bodies in the water.

You do not recognize the bodies in the water.
Y̸o̵u̸ ̸d̸o̷ ̵n̸o̷t̴ ̶r̶e̶c̴o̴g̵n̴i̵z̴e̴ ̴t̷h̶e̷ ̷b̷o̷d̸i̴e̵s̶ ̶i̷n̶ ̶t̷h̶e̸ ̴w̸a̶t̷e̴r̸.̴

Y̸͉͌̏ȭ̴͈̼u̶̯͑̌ ̴̫̍̏d̴̝̽́ŏ̵̲̯͑̏ ̶̛̯̱̗̑͘n̸͕͐͋̈́ò̴͖̩̌̋t̷̢̼́͑ ̴̇͑̈ͅr̶͚͊̈́͂͜ē̶̼͒̈c̶̏͌̐͜͜ṑ̸̬̬ḡ̵͖̌̾n̵͎̘̉̌í̷͔͑̚z̷̬͒̀ë̸͍̣̳ ̵̨̛̈́́t̷̲͆͘h̷̻̆͋e̵̮̒̆̓͜ ̵̙͆̊b̴̧̙͐̾o̶̪̟̿͊̋ḓ̷̨͑̂̔ȉ̵̻͠ȩ̵̧̘͝ś̶͙͕̠ ̷͇̬̲̃̊î̸̥̙̚͜n̵̞̼͆͠ ̴̨̟̟̇͘ţ̵̲̓̄h̷̦̔ḙ̷́̑͝ ̶͔̗͂́̇w̴͚̠̉̎̕a̴͔̐̈́̑t̴̖̅̍e̸̪͒ŗ̸̇͠.̴̙̫̈́͜

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Y̸̖͎̰̘̟̑̌̾o̵̮͖͔̖̅͒̍͜ú̷̀͜ ̴̨̹̦͇̝͈̇ͅḏ̴͇͓̔̏͒̂õ̴̜̙͎̱̭͜ ̶̗̖̈n̵̛̮͑̏̚o̵̥͈̝̮͇͙͒ţ̸͇͇͎̜̈́̋ ̵̢̡̩̱͙͖̅̾̉̑̈́͜r̸̬͂̊̀̚͠ͅé̸̫͚̭̯̖̱̔̅̎̀̿͘c̴̢̡͉̪̹̰̩͐̋o̸͈͗͐͆ğ̴̦ṋ̸̫̘͖͋į̸̧̛̬͔̤́́͌̉͝z̶̩̈́̈́̕ȩ̸̞̎̽̊̂̋͘͝ ̴̩͎͖̪̉͋̓͋̇t̵̡̢͚̤̩͇̳͛̒̆̌ḩ̷̢͔͎̘̘̪͐̑e̶̘̊̔̈͑ ̵̨̡̛͚̲̫̯̍b̷͘ͅö̷̡̤͙́̍̇d̴̯͚͖̥͌͜í̵̛͉̰͓̝̊̈̍e̸̮͎͕̥͚͍̍͗͛͂͋̔͜ŝ̵̺̤̯͍̥̭̳̉̌ ̴̰̽̅̀́́̐͠i̴̧̤͂̀n̴͍͎͙̉̆͂̊̾͠ ̷̬̱̎͋̇ṯ̸͉͘ḩ̶̙̰͕̝̯̉̓́͗e̵̼̅̈̇́̄̚ ̴̨̜̈́̅̿̎w̵̻̣̦̦͈͌̈͋̚͝å̶͔̯̊̍͊t̷̨̬̮̱̤͙̳̄̏ḛ̸͊̎́̔͐̊̌ͅr̵̡̟̼̗̳̃̓̆͛̌̋.̵̡̦̝̤͗͌̌͆̉͠

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Y̶̧̫̝͕̠͔͉̻̼̰̘̠͉̹͈̰̯̣̓͗̊͛̈͂́̇̇̄̕͝͝o̴̟̱̔̔͌̏̄̄͝ù̷̢̹͓̭̯̯̯͔̤̀̒̾̾̿̋̍͜͜ ̷̧̩̺̰̭̌̿̉̒̎̑̈́d̷̠̪͈̣̞̙̳̹͕͍̳̲͉̤͈̯̣̈́́̅̿͛͐̂͌̐̍ǭ̷̩̻̜͍̈́͌̊̑͗̌̓́̈͛̉̎͂̐̓ ̷̧̫͕͎̙͕͎̼̪͎̟̳̩̰̤̰̘̖̐̋̐̀̀͘ņ̵̧̛̯͖̱̭͎͙̟̖̹̜̅͂̐̈͒̓͋̽͋̀͒̓̌͌̿̚͝o̵̠͕̞͈̲̝͎̣̅̓̉͌̐́̆̉͐̾͋͆͝t̵̨̬̩͚̩̝̏̕͝ ̷̡̱̙͚̙̗̘̮̲̈́͛r̴̨̧̨̢̡̗̤͙̠͙̤̖͓͇̖̤̤̅́́́͋̏̾̍́̄͘e̴͔̲͐̈́̑̆̐͌̓̐̿̒̉͒̕͘̚c̷̡̡̡̥̘͍̤͇͍̝̣͊̈̐̀ͅo̶͍̼͚͊̽̎g̵͉̯͖͊̓́̾̀͊́̄̒̀̈̿͘̕͠n̶̡̦͉͖̭̞̘̮͕̗̱̤̤̻͚̥̄̄͂̉̓͐́̓̎͘͜͝ǐ̴̗͔͋͆̾͌̍̏̚͠z̸̜͔̝͍̯̘͍̞̈́̌͐̏͝ę̸̨͔̜̺̖̬͍̙̯̲̩̀͂̚͘͜ ̷͍̏̓́̋̓͂̅̉̽ͅt̵̳̝̦̺̰̹̥̗͇̝͕̖̞͖̭̓̃͂̄̈́͜ͅͅh̶̲̼͓̲̞̮͙̼̺̣̓̄̎̌̄̑̂̓̍̌̇̐͘͜͝͝͠ḛ̵̙̩̘̘̆̾̉̔̊͘͠͠͠ͅ ̶̡̨̥̮̮̤̟̊͛̎͆̓̒͗̇̀̓̉̄͂͠͝͝b̴̢̺̞̙̺̗̱̰̖̞̖͖̞͍̉̾̿̓̔͂̉̇͛̊͛̓͋͐͛̋̇͠o̸̲̲̼̳̦̩͘͜͜ḑ̸̛̰͕̜̤̟͆̐́̈́̃̈̍̌̆̀͐͋̚̕̕͝ͅį̴͓͍̖̤̰̳͇̰͖̙͈̫̙͚̤̆̊͆͂͋́́͘͝͝ȩ̷̡̭̯̱̺̮͉̐͆͐̀ş̵̧̬̹͙͐̋̚͘͝ ̸̦̯̫̗̦̘͓̹̙̫͉̝̯̈̌̓͑̒̋͠͝ͅͅį̸̢̢̖̠̣̠̪̱̟̯̠̠̅̋̂̑͜͜ͅn̴͓͇̣͕͎͉̘̜͕̗̓͆̄ͅ ̵̯̱͒̌̆̓̆̐̍̓͑͘̚͠͠ṯ̴̛̆͋͑̍̍̉̍͑̌͆͗̈́̕͝͝͝h̷̖͚͈͚̹̥̋͑̍̆̓̕è̷̢̥͉̬̹͈̗͓̘̝͍̜̖͍̭̰͉̉̉͌͘͠ ̴̨̩̰̤̜͎͉̫͊̌̎͐̾͛̃͊͋̄̈́̀͘w̵̜͉̪̪̦̙̯͉̮̜̗̞̭̓̈̓̍̎̽͆̀̑̀͐̕͝͠͝ͅä̸̡̢̻͖̫̬̲͔͚̘͔̝̲̹̞̞́͑̍͐͊͛̀̐̈́̀́͂̾͆͌͂͜t̵̠̽̊͆̐̽͂̒͘e̴͚͈̎͗͗̔͐͗̚r̸̨͈̘͎͎̤͌͋͜͜.̷̖̠̤͆̉̅̊

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set to music by Felix Jarrar.

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further details coming soon.

When they killed us, did you say they killed americans?

Since the Covid-19 Pandemic, anti-Asian hate crimes have skyrocketed, leaving many Asian-Americans feeling unsafe and unwanted in their own country. I remember I was volunteering giving the first Covid-19 vaccine to people and, immediately after feeling like there was a light at the end of the pandemic tunnel, read the news about the Atlanta Spa shooting. This was written not long after. Set to music by Felix Jarrar. 

Video coming soon
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When they killed us, did you say they killed Americans?
When they beat us, did our blood look American to you?
When we cried out for help, were you impressed with our English?

That hate, where does it come from?

No, where does it really come from?

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When they mock us, are we obedient enough?
When they blame us, what country do they blame?
When they shoot us, are we murdered the American way?

That silence, where does it come from?

No, where does it really come from?

​

The nightmare of the pandemic is almost over, we are told.

Yet each day I see another body
broken, spat on, limp and lying on the ground
who could be my mother or my grandfather.

How should this give me hope?

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When you shut your doors, were you as frightened
as the woman being stomped on the pavement a few feet away?

Were you as surprised to read the news
as you were our history?

Are these scars patriotic enough for you?

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When we surrendered our names, were we American enough?

When we disowned our mother tongue, were we American enough?

We were always American enough.

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These tears,

where do they come from?

Where do they really come from?

When Marcus and Laura arrive at their friend's coworker's house for a dinner party, things take an unexpected turn for the macabre. Curious guests always make the best food in this dark comedy! Set to music by Nicholas Bentz.

I step into my room

lock the door
close the windows
and turn the lights off
The room is dead
The room is cold
The devil whispers a lullaby

I close my eyes
As silence looms and the room awakens, the walls sprint away
The ceiling joins the nebulae above
The floorboard sinks into a hole like fine white sands rushing down an hourglass

There is no room
I am the room
I am nothing
I am all

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My head erupts into clouds of bismuth

I watch my body shrink, disappear
until I'm zipping at the speed of light

The night sky blurs

Stars transmuted into radiant streams of epiphany
My soul splits into trillions of atoms bursting in all directions overwhelmed
by terror sublime

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The Eye of God speaks to me in a conch shell melody, casting the shadow of the four suns

The iris, a black halo
a rainbow of colors I've never seen before, engulfs the soul with inescapable gravity

The Eye of God splits open my skull

allowing for the purest wine to flow from the river of life and light
It knows all and understands nothing, but I comprehend

The Eye of God is the grand spiral, the universal whole, the constant nothing
the great I AM

and
I am nothing
I am the universe I am the spiral

I am every molecule of air
and every photon splattering colour on Earth's blank canvas, giving birth to emerald valleys and scorched canyons
I am the truth

The EYE
The I
watching me

My third eye awakened, God paints an image:

a black mass of spiders and crows crawling

contorting their appendages
confined to the cancerous glue that imprisons them, cackling at the demon they've created
A sinister tumor with porcelain horns scraping holes in the sky

maggots and worms convulsing as one
infecting one another with their poison
which comes from the oozing, black hearts of angels smote down from the kingdom

The creature screams at me with its static howl. Ouroboros circle its red, bulging eyes
The red eyes that illuminate the abyss
and peer into my deepest fears

Secrets hidden deep within my castle, secrets that I will take to my grave.