Songs of the not-so innocent

I started this blog in 2007, living as a student in the United States. It was a quiet Southern city with jobs dominated by the university so it lacked the vibrancy of a college town, leaving precious little to do after classes. I didn't have the money anyway. I did not start writing with the express purpose of chronicling life or bitching about the vagaries of a seemingly malevolent universe. I simply wanted to do something and writing seemed a more appealing choice rather than visiting the excellent recreation center more often. 
Making great choices since forever, that's me. While I was aware of the conservative nature of the region, I never felt overtly or covertly discriminated against. The only time I encountered anything close to it was on a whitewater rafting trip in rural Tennessee. Back then, I didn’t fully appreciate the South’s placid charms, longing instead for the energy and crowds of northern cities like New York or Chicago. When I returned to the US ten years lat...

When people die, it’s not easy to part with their possessions. The act of letting go becomes a form of acceptance that the person is truly gone—and that is far easier said than done, especially in the early days when emotions are raw and the heart feels unruly. There’s a certain order to what you clear out. Clothes are the hardest because they still carry the scent of the person. Much of the paperwork is necessary for bureaucratic reasons and can’t simply be discarded. Favourite pens, books, watches, and even coin boxes linger for an oddly long time. The chair and desk often find new purpose until they no longer suit your home. But the digital traces left behind are the most unexpected to confront. Perhaps “unexpected” isn’t quite right, given how much of life is lived online today. Sifting through my dad’s accounts felt like walking into the Las Vegas scene in Blade Runner 2049 —a landscape of crumbling monuments to a life once vibrant. There’s the LinkedIn building of ...