an existentialist kid trapped in an adult's body
Alright, one rice in particular. Basmati, that beautiful son of a bitch. A long, slender-grained aromatic rice, traditionally from the Indian subcontinent. For me, its the old friend I never visit anymore. The one I used to drown in ketchup because my parents never made kid-friendly food. Chicken and rice. Chicken and rice. Chicken and... Continue Reading →
My immigrant parents never failed to remind me of the sacrifices they made when they made the move to Canada. Making sure to tell me all the gory details, and how their unwavering conviction saw them through the hardest of times. They lived a life not for pleasure's sake but for righteousness itself. Always noble... Continue Reading →
giselleandbeyond 