seriously reading about Asian-American history makes me feel quite annoyed, irritated, and angry
those wonderful moments when you are alone, thinking, and you just feel an overwhelming love for those special people in your life
"For a star to be born, there is one thing that must happen: a gaseous nebula must collapse.
This is not your destruction.
This is your birth."
awkward moment when you step in an elevator and half its occupants are people you’ve documented or almost documented before