"A writer—and I believe, generally all persons—must think that whatever happens to him or her is a resource. All things have been given to us for a purpose, and an artist must feel this more intensely. All that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, our embarrassments, all is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art."

FaceTime and FaceOff

"Too much, too little, or not enough, too fat, too thin, or nobody" - The Crunch, Charles Bukowski

We checked out each other on the FaceTime. A few minutes of exchanging greetings and chitchats. A few attempts to get to know the 'other' person; a lost art among the post-social media socialized 'selves'. What stuck out were a few personal narratives, stories of how we became who 'we' are. An attempt to make connections among ones lifetime events, well some events, others to be left alone within the "tome of memory, its random blank pages".

We also left alone the context that we carried with ourselves, the 'class', and with that our perception of what is 'normal' or 'abnormal'. We both carried our own walls, walls to insulate us from the 'others' of certain types. To penetrate these walls, simply meant to be a romantic, while the forces of 'class' face off.