This morning, I got off the subway train and headed towards the exit. As I approached it, I noticed that there was some kind of line. People were lined up at the exit. I figured it was the rain. Right I was: people were craning their necks to see outside from within the exit platform.…
The journey to find my bespoke suit – Part I
A suit is a set of garments crafted from the same cloth, consisting of at least a jacket and trousers. Lounge suits are the most common style of Western suit, originating in England as country wear. -Wikipedia I have always had a healthy attraction towards suits. Ever since I was young I wanted to have…
The sacrilege of my sweet sweet Moleskine
When I was nine years old, I was a volunteer at the computer lab in my elementary school. I worked with a very large and rather affable teacher by the name of Mr. Caplan. I would help wipe down the monitorsand the keyboards of the thirty or so Apple Macintosh IIs set in four rows,…
Fiction as Reality in Frank O’ Hara
This is a paper I wrote on Frank O' Hara, a gay American poet. Wrote it in about an hour and a half if I remember correctly. I got an A along with heaps of praise from my professor, who officially became my fan after reading this paper. I've never had such an attentive professor.…
Poetry is nonsense
I love writing poetry. I can occasionally enjoy reading it. But if there's one thing that I hate, it's an academic study of it with the wrong kind of professor. Luckily, I'm not saddled with an overzealousprofessor. The main contention that I have with the study of poetry is that it is entirely subjective, even…
