Thinking about things

“The author is dead.”

This comes from Roland Barthes’ seminal work where he describes the author “dying” with the birth of the text and no longer holding authority over its ultimate meaning. In the practice of literary criticism, this means that the writer submits the meaning of the text to the reader.

Of course, this is a figurative death—authors don’t literally die upon the release of their work; though there are times when we might wish they did.

With the advent of the internet, smartphones, and social media, we can get news from across the globe within seconds. As the wildfires across Los Angeles spread, so did the news about its extent.


We watched as people uploaded scenes of their homes being engulfed in flame and called for aid. We heard about celebrities who lost their mansions to horrific fires that burned everything they had worked for in a matter of minutes. We viewed aerial shots that showed the gravity of damage through before-and-after comparisons; entire neighborhoods were reduced to ashes.


As climate change intensifies the frequency and severity of natural disasters, witnessing their destruction has become a common experience worldwide—delivered directly to us through the screens in our pockets. One day, it’s wildfires in Los Angeles or snowstorms in the southern United States; the next, it’s typhoons and earthquakes in the Philippines.

Ah, the post-Christmas lull. Those magical days between the holiday frenzy and the New Year's Eve rush. It's a time for relaxation, reflection, and maybe a little too much holiday cheer.


From December 26th to the 30th, most of us forego setting alarms and finally catch up on all the sleep we owe ourselves. Instead of Zoom calls with colleagues, we video chat with friends and family who are celebrating the holidays elsewhere. While our email autoresponders work overtime, we bask in the bliss of unfinished business being January’s problem. For the lucky few, this is a time to breathe—and binge.


To help you savor these precious moments, here’s a list of the best TV episodes to enjoy during this quiet period.

This wasn't supposed to be a political post. I began writing this draft years ago, reflecting on what it means to be a young woman stepping into a new decade. Four years later, it feels like I've learned so much about gender and womanhood, yet I am no closer to finding my answers than when I started.

The 2024 U.S. election results have resurfaced these reflections. Since I know very little about how politics in America work, I thought about school elections instead.

During the COVID pandemic lockdowns, I penned an essay to apologize to Taylor Swift.

The essay recounted my journey as a former “Swiftie.” In high school, I sang “Fifteen” to console my best friend after a breakup. I would lose myself in Taylor Swift’s songs on my MP3 player, whether in the car or while washing dishes. However, upon entering college, I began to view my love for her music as juvenile. I openly criticized her songs, claiming they perpetuated traditional beliefs about heterosexual relationships and power dynamics. My critiques mirrored the sentiments of those who derided anything popular among young teenage girls—an ironic stance that ignored how I was then still in my teenage years.

What I couldn’t ignore was despite my conscious decision to stop listening to her music, I couldn’t stop talking about her because even if I did, the world didn't. I couldn’t escape her pervasive presence.