It was desperate gasps, it was glittering mortality. Yet absence from it was anguish. I use the sea to document my life. Somehow, the moments when my chin slipped above its molten surface were the happiest I ever documented.
Browsing: writing competition 2024
Space, the final frontier. Its endless expanse is framed in science fiction as a clean and untainted new world for humanity to enter- but leaving Earth will not take the humanity from us.
Promise me that there will always be one more orange slice left for me.
Promise me that you will peel it yourself.
Promise, promise, promise.
He died in 2022, so the joke’s on him, I suppose. For someone who thought everyone else was an idiot, he was the one who wasted his life wallowing in superiority.
I do, however, believe that it is important to consider whether our desire to remove texts from curricula is guided, in part, by an unwillingness to confront and sit with the discomfort of acknowledging that we sometimes enjoy things that are unfair to others.
Systematic as a diagram, but ridiculous in their scope of possibility, the modern grocery store represents to me all the richness of existing in space.
On his way out, he spotted a dead cockroach by the gates, laying on its armour-like back, with its dangly legs sticking up.
I exist here. I live here. I am life. It’s in me. I have to believe that will be worth something to me again eventually.
Decolonial politics, and decolonial literary criticism by extension, is abolitionist in nature. Accordingly, decolonial literary criticism is better understood as an allergy towards the canon; a compulsion to revolutionise art and literature within the confines of a colonial language.
Maybe we are entitled to hope, to take heart from the fact that the blistering developments of modern art have not obsoleted Rubens, but perhaps an existential reckoning is already inescapable.
