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Love Inc.

If the latest wave of me-centric technology primes us to think of ourselves as consumers and all of life’s offerings, even love itself, as commodities we can accrue with enough cash for an eHarmony subscription, are we not like the mortals, skewered by many a Greek tragedy, who foolishly believe they’re in control of all the elements?

Time/Out

I think that Paris may be a conspiracy to make you forget about time. Somehow I’ve forgotten to worry about or even think about it. It’s funny how time works: A whole summer of time makes you go crazy with boredom, but an hour to finish a paper kills you with stress.

A State of Confusion

Where and how does one find their anchor? When you veer from the handed-down K through college path, either by graduating or falling into an existential crisis like me, how do you go about getting back your sense of direction?

The Pain (and Joy) of Running

Electric. That’s what it felt like. Electric, like sitting on the beach and imagining whales ballooning in the ocean, and what the sky looked like in Melbourne. The electricity rooted in dreams of faraway places, but planted right here, in the present moment.