Mexican Gothic centers around the story of Noemí Taboada, a young, free-spirited socialite in 1950’s Mexico. One day, a frantic letter arrives from her cousin, Catalina. Upon first glance, she does not appear to be mentally well. Concerned, Noemí’s father gets in contact with her husband, an Englishman named Virgil Doyle. The two go back and forth with one another until Virgil extends an invitation for Noemí to visit Catalina at the Doyle family home.
Situated high up in the mountaintops in the countryside, the Doyle mansion, called High Place, is a drastic change from the city life Noemí is…
My brain feels like it’s melting. I feel like this past month went by in a foggy state of surrealness. Or perhaps, it’s just this entire year. I have suddenly become the melting clocks in Salvador Dali’s, The Persistence of Memory (1931).
I am stuck in many moments in time. I am slipping between these moments and feeling off-kilter. Each time I move between them, another part of my soul sheds away. Tiny particles float away into the atmosphere and disappear forever. I’ll never get back what I lost. I can’t seem to find my balance.
I have survived the…
Today I’m feeling blue again. I hit the snooze button on my alarm for the fifth time. I feel hollow on the inside. My emotions constantly consume me, just like they always have. Past memories of people calling me weak or dramatic echo inside my head, giving me more reason to not want to face reality. Decades of emotional pain and isolation threaten to smother me once more. Today is a bad day. Or has it been weeks? Months? Years? It’s always on and off.
My mind and body feel weak, devoid of sustenance, and warmth. I am lost in…
Although I shelter from the rain
Under a broken tree,
My chair was nearest to the fire
In every company
That talked of love or politics,
Ere Time transfigured me.
— W.B. Yeats
Towards the end of December, I picked up reading again during the holidays and haven’t stopped reading since. I almost forgot what it felt like to fall in love with the art of storytelling, and I never realized how badly I needed stories in my life again until now. During uncertain times like these, escaping into poetic words and fantastical worlds feels like a blessing.
In the land of freelancing, you’re allowed to be your own boss and set your own hours, but once you take on a client, the rolls can reverse, and suddenly it feels like demand after demand is thrust upon you.
Suddenly you are no longer in control. You are drowning in work and every client wants your undivided attention. You are no longer human. You are a machine and you have no needs and no life of your own.
Welcome to freelancing hell!
Okay, let’s take a step back here. It doesn’t necessarily have to be this way. …
This article may contain spoilers
After recently finishing the thriller ‘You,’ starring Penn Badgley and Elizabeth Lail, I have been feeling all sorts of emotions. Unsettled is one of them.
For those who haven’t watched the series or read the book yet, ‘You’ centers around bookstore manager Joe Goldberg and struggling writer and graduate student, Guinevere Beck — known simply as Beck.
Both characters share minor similarities at first. To the outside world, they appear charming and carefree. Their lives seem centered, but we quickly learn that on the inside, they are both struggling with their own personal demons.
Books are a uniquely portable magic. ~Stephen King
Since the age of five, I have been enamored by the art of storytelling. Books have always been my cornerstone, and have provided me with an imaginary world and safe space to fall back on.
As a natural Introvert and someone that grew up relatively sheltered, books always served as a companion during my greatest moments of solitude.
There has always been something comforting about holding a book in my hands, and the satisfactory feeling of each turn of the page, always anticipating every new word that would lead me closer and…
I’ll never forget the first time I saw Trainspotting. I was intrigued but also horrified. It was gritty, jolting, and viscerally raw. It was also one of the first movies I ever watched that centered around the lives of addicts — and not just any addict — but the heroin addict.
Heroin is probably one of the most deadliest drugs anyone can ever do and movies like Trainspotting don’t skip out on all the messy details. I mean, have you read the book? I have and it’s also not a pretty story, but it isn’t meant to be.
Growing up, I remember teen dramas on the air like Dawson’s Creek, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Gilmore Girls, 7th Heaven, and Beverly Hills, 90210.
In the early 2000’s there was the The O.C., One Tree Hill, Gossip Girl, Veronica Mars, and The Vampire Diaries, to name a few.
Even newer teen-centered shows like 13 Reasons Why, Pretty Little Liars, Riverdale, Stranger Things, or upcoming Netflix originals like Insatiable (now receiving backlash for fat-shaming) all have one major element in common: they’re told through the viewpoints of a mostly all white cast, and all the main characters are also typically white.
There’s something delicious about the taste of chocolate, seductive about the taste of caramel, and something comforting about the taste of brownies. Turn it all into coffee, and it becomes liquid gold, baby. Or at least to people like me — the people that appreciate the bitter sweet taste of revenge.
Coffee is my drug of choice, my addiction that I keep to stay sane and afloat in a complex world.
I convince myself I’m a little more sophisticated when I consume this delectable treat and rarity. It becomes easier and easier to pretend that it gives my life more…