Alexandra Sasha Shahinfar

Nov 1, 2020 5:57AM / Wet eyes on the highwayI need to do better. / I need to be better for both of them

There are two memories that contour the day my grandmother left. 

While prolonged escapism in the long term is destructive, I can’t help but wonder if it’s inherently a bad thing on a smaller scale.

“American Pie?” is my amateur attempt at asking and answering what I want to be; rather than exploring how much pie I can have, I ask how much I will eat.

While we like to say beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, it would be more accurate to say that it lies in the hands of big corporations and advertisers.

When I begin to love, I feel the anxiety-ridden fireworks go off in my chest — a perpetual yearning not only for love but also for cultural acceptance.

I imagine our skirmishes are proof that empathy grows alongside the outbursts. We absorb each other’s feelings and project them outward again.

The United States simultaneously perpetuates a culture of grotesque and immoderate food consumption. It is excessively consumed, but also abundantly wasted.

My mother strings words together more eloquently than I, both despite her lack of familiarity with English and because of it.

What makes someone “white” in the United States? Is it a lack of spice tolerance? Raisins in potato salad? Shish kebabs and baba ghanoush?