And not a single one of them is how you secretly want to f*ck your parents.

Photo by Julien Tondu on Unsplash

We’ve all heard the name before: Sigmund Freud. The man that seems to occupy all aspects of literature (in fact, he’s one of the top 10 quoted authors of all time), we know him either from terms such as “Freudian Slip” or the “Oedipus Complex”. Still, how many people actually know the teachings of Freud?

With his intense fixation on sexuality, it’s easy to brush off his work as a popularized pseudoscience. …


How much water is too much?

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Growing up, my mother always had the green thumb.

I’d stand by the backyard door, watching her aim the hose towards the summer sky and the watering raining showers on the various leaves. I never quite understood the appeal of growing plants. I mean, why would I? I was more concerned about where my next bike ride would take me, and how I’d get the quarters I needed to buy a soda pop.

Never in my youth did I realize the intuitive beauty of gardening, yet now living in an apartment full of plants…


You have to apply pressure.

Photo by Brook Anderson on Unsplash

It dawned on me while I was cutting my morning avocado.

Pushing the knife in a bit too deep, I wound up cutting the tip of my right pinky. I immediately recognized the sting, and found myself disheveled on how I would finish cutting my avocado (my eggs had just finished cooking) while tending to my wounds.

See, I consider myself a “safe” chef. I don’t get too testy with my recipes, and always take my time when prepping in order to avoid incidents a grâce à an avocado.

In my momentary search for optimal…


There’s nothing to lose if you’re not afraid to try.

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Working with middle schoolers, I’m always enamored by how much their youthful minds effortlessly inspire. I was sitting at the table with Crystal, and she was telling me the “chisme” on her newest crush.

“I like him a lot, and I’ve liked him for a while. I wanted to ask him out on Valentine’s Day, but he didn’t come to school…”

(Oh, the quarrels of young love).

Giving her my ears and attention, I decided to chime in,

“Well, how about talking to him about it the next time you…


The woman who taught me the love that lies behind a “Yes” and “No”.

Photo by Albert Renn on Unsplash

Dear Mom,

One of my favorite stories you’ve ever told me is the story of how you learned English. You just immigrated to Hawaii, and it was your first day in grade school. The only words in English you knew were “Yes” and “No”. The teacher was taking roll, and asked you — the new student — what your name was. Looking into her eyes, you simply replied, “Yes.”

I like to believe that as you’ve evolved into a fluent English speaker and mother, those two words have…


My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me…

Photo by Patrick Fore on Unsplash

As the words of God infiltrated my ears, they began to slither into my veins and approach my heart. The light of judgement began to ignite my body. As the holiness of the words prepped to take a bite out of my ideals, my brain decided to step in and defend itself. This battle within me would have to ensue for two more hours before I could get what I came for: a free bible.

Sitting down with Mormons is not how I planned to spend my Thursday evening. I intended…


The perspective of a queer / mixed young-adult, and how intersectional identities navigate the world.

Photo by Wil Stewart on Unsplash

Throughout my entire life, all I’ve been looking for is one thing: direction.

Looking east, I see the shadows of my mother’s culture. My converted catholic ancestors haunting my spirit; wishing it wasn’t men who I was born to feel attracted, but instead become the desirable masculine figure that births purpose in a woman. Their sighs of divine regret casting judgement on my being before their assumed God will “inevitably” bring.

Looking south, I see the shadow of myself. The shadow of a boy who…


How flowers help us all understand the world, and where we belong in it.

Photo by Thought Catalog on Unsplash

When you see a rose, can you tell me what comes to mind?

Is it the image of beauty? One that is celebrated amongst societies of all kind alike. The champion of flowers; containing a beautiful bud as well as tantalizing thorns.

Is it the image of pain? Pricking a finger as a child when trying to pull the flower towards the nose. Eager to get the sweet scent of its hues into our nostrils, yet slighted by the blood that drips along the stems.

Is…


A poem in french, in a summertime of love.

Photo by Irina Iriser on Unsplash

Je vais faire une promenade

Et je m’arrête pour sentir les fleurs

Je pense à un moment special

Et le sourire que nous avons porté.

Tu as été dans mon esprit

Je sais que j’ai été dans le vôtre

L’été quand nous avons rencontré

Où la romance était dans l’air.

J’aime quand on est ensemble —

J’apprécie quand nous sommes séparés,

Je sens le poids de ta main —

Et le battement de ton cœur.

J’espère que ça dure pour toujours

Un rêve qui est la réalité.

Je me détourne des fleurs.

Mon cœur brille comme une étoile.

Spencer Spring

Favors the blue M&M, believed bagel was spelled “bagle” until age 19, 4th-year English major at UCLA.

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