in a crowded cafe, i noticed a man who meticulously folded his napkin into perfect squares before placing it on his lap. did he find solace in these meticulous rituals, i wondered? did every action serve a purpose, carefully curated to uphold an impeccable facade? he glanced around, eyes scanning the room with a studied glance. did he calculate the impressions he left behind, each movement meticulously orchestrated? was his fastidiousness a shield against the chaotic unpredictability of life, a way to control the uncontrollable? i refrained from mentioning the ink smudge on his cuff or the restless tapping of his foot beneath the table. did he obsess over these perceived imperfections, or was it simply a relentless pursuit of order amidst life’s disorder? perhaps, it was merely his preference for structure in a world of chaos. maybe my thoughts wove elaborate tales, finding significance where none existed. or perhaps, behind his precise demeanor, lay a universe of intricate complexities, a story waiting to be told.

Black, a color that encapsulates the enigmatic depths and stark contrasts, holding within it an air of mystery, elegance, and the essence of the unknown.

Sight: Picture the vastness of the night sky, painted with the inky blackness that holds the secrets of the universe. Visualize the sleek, polished surface of ebony, absorbing light and reflecting a timeless elegance. Black silhouettes against the city skyline, etched in bold contrast against the glowing lights.

Sound: Listen to the silence that envelops the night, a profound hush that speaks volumes in its absence of sound. Imagine the sophisticated cadence of heels clicking against a polished black marble floor, resonating with an air of sophistication and poise.

Touch: Feel the smoothness of a sleek black satin fabric, its lustrous surface a tactile invitation to sophistication. Run your hand across the matte finish of ebony wood, its velvety texture whispering of understated elegance and depth.

Taste: Experience the richness of a robust, dark espresso, its bitter sweetness tinged with the depth and complexity of the color black. Savor the intense decadence of dark chocolate, its velvety taste reminiscent of the darkness that embodies elegance and refinement.

Smell: Inhale the fragrance of charred wood and the subtle smokiness it carries, evoking the essence of depth and sophistication. Breathe in the subtle scent of black leather, its aroma resonating with luxury and refined elegance.

Black, a color that stands as a canvas for contrasts and possibilities, embodying sophistication, elegance, and the allure of the unknown. Its depth and complexity invite contemplation, a color that speaks volumes in its silence and holds within it a timeless allure.

My Dearest Beloved,

Like the robin’s trill in dawn’s tender embrace, my heart sings for you, a melody woven in silken strands of affection. With each beat, it murmurs your name, a soft lullaby that sways the strings of my soul. Oh, how you have become the celestial rhapsody that dances within my being!

You are the blush of the rosebud, unfurling petal by petal, a testament to nature’s artistry. Your touch, gentle as a zephyr’s kiss, awakens dormant desires within me, like a slumbering garden roused by spring’s enchanting touch. Your love, my dearest, breathes life into the barren fields of my existence.

Like a moonbeam’s caress upon a midnight lake, your presence shimmers upon the vast expanse of my thoughts. I find solace in the ebon depths of your eyes, where constellations of dreams reside, twinkling with promises of love’s eternity. You are the celestial compass that guides me through life’s uncharted seas, and I am but a humble sailor, adrift in the rapture of your gaze.

Your laughter, a symphony of cascading waterfalls, tinkles in the chambers of my heart, a melody that entwines with my every breath. Oh, how it stirs the embers of my spirit, casting away the shadows of melancholy, and painting my world in hues of boundless joy. Your laughter, my love, is the elixir that banishes sorrow and brings forth a resplendent dawn upon my weary soul.

In the realm of our love, time stands still, a placid pond reflecting the majesty of our affection. Each whispered word, a ripple that spreads, carrying the essence of our devotion across the surface of eternity. Let us dance upon this tranquil water, hand in hand, twirling with the grace of moonlit fireflies, for our love is a waltz that knows no end.

My dearest, you are the iridescent tapestry that adorns the heavens, the culmination of dreams whispered to the stars. As herself, in her quietude, let me share the depths of my heart, for your love has unlocked a realm where words find their wings and emotions bloom like ethereal wildflowers.

With all the tender devotion my soul can offer,
Yours forevermore.

When I was 16, my life resembled an ever-changing kaleidoscope, with new colors and patterns constantly shifting and unfolding before my eyes. Having lived all around the world due to my parents’ work, I became a citizen of the globe, a nomadic soul wandering through diverse landscapes and cultures.

As a child, I had already called several countries my home – from the bustling streets of Tokyo to the sun-soaked beaches of Rio de Janeiro, and the historic wonders of Rome. Each new place brought with it a sense of excitement, but also a touch of trepidation as I navigated unfamiliar cultures and languages.

One momentous move stands out in my memory, when my family relocated to a small village nestled amidst the majestic Swiss Alps. The village seemed like a tranquil postcard brought to life, with quaint wooden chalets, a meandering river, and snow-capped peaks towering above like majestic sentinels.

Settling into the Swiss village presented its own set of challenges. I had to adapt to a new school system, a different language, and forge connections with peers who had grown up together since childhood. However, my resilience and open-mindedness allowed me to make friends and find my place in this picturesque world.

My fascination with the mountains grew with each passing day. I spent my weekends exploring the alpine trails, hiking through meadows of wildflowers and gazing at the distant glaciers. The beauty of nature seemed to envelop me, leaving a profound impact on my soul.

But life’s unpredictable nature soon dictated another change. This time, we were off to the bustling metropolis of New York City. The transition from the serenity of the Alps to the hustle and bustle of the Big Apple felt like stepping into a whole new dimension. Skyscrapers touched the clouds, yellow cabs zoomed through streets like ants on a mission, and the city’s energy was contagious.

In this concrete jungle, I learned to embrace diversity, engaging with people from all walks of life. The cultural melting pot fostered an environment that encouraged me to expand my horizons, both academically and creatively. From Broadway shows to renowned art museums, the city became my playground of inspiration.

Amidst all the moves and changes, I held onto the precious memories of each place. I carried the cherry blossoms of Tokyo, the samba rhythms of Rio, the ancient history of Rome, the serenity of the Swiss Alps, and the vibrant energy of New York City within my heart.

Looking back, I realize that my nomadic childhood was not without its challenges, but it gifted me with an invaluable education beyond textbooks. It taught me adaptability, resilience, and the beauty of embracing the world’s diverse tapestry.

As I continue to move through life, I am eager to see what new colors will blend into my kaleidoscope of experiences. Each chapter, each adventure, adds another layer to the tapestry of my life, creating a vibrant narrative of growth and discovery that I carry with me wherever I go. And I know that no matter where I land, I am a citizen of the world, bound by the threads of countless memories and the promise of endless exploration.

i asked a girl who seemed so put together why she drank her coffee from a straw. “i don’t want it to stain my teeth. is this how she felt about everything? did she calculate how every little thing she did would affect her image? her appearance? did she spend her nights thinking of the visual damage the coffee did to her teeth and not the detrimental damage the caffeine was doing to her? did she spend her whole life completing mundane tasks to uphold her clean and perfect image? i did not want to tell her that her nails were bitten till they bled, or how she looked down when she talked, and that her shirt wrinkled at an odd place. i try not to think of people like that. or maybe, she just doesn’t want to stain her teeth, and i have an active imagination.

Lover, you cut at me and then crawl back into my affections. You strike, wound, draw blood to win any victory no matter how petty. You excuse yourself with meaningless jibes about the words I used to mount my inadequate defense, playing with semantics rather than true meaning. Perhaps you are unable to understand emotions, perhaps you simply don’t care, only wanting your hollow “victories.”

You act as if my love was owed to you, but you give me only apathy. When did you last cry because I was hurt, or come running because you thought I needed help? When did you last listen to the song of my heart regardless of the beat or lyrics? When did you last look at me as if I were amazing and dwell with me, hug me, as if it was so sweet you wished you could stay with me forever. When did you last show me the yearnings of your soul, the raw, vulnerable, and beautiful you? Instead you stare at nothing, interact with the meaningless as if it were your holy grail and dismiss anything of importance I have to say – your apathy killed us both. 

I gave to you freely from a sense of deep love, yet you assumed you had taken it from dominance. I saw our relationship as cooperation, yet you saw manipulation instead of helping words, as if we were in some bizarre live game of chess. It broke my heart to realize that you saw a cold war instead of sweet love, for it was all in your head, a paranoia.

All I ever wanted to do was love you and bring happiness, to heal where you were hurt. What I gave, I gave freely from my soul, yet you thought yourself entitled to all I ever had and more. You were as a guest at a restaurant who, because they pay the bill, they feel entitled to be rude to the chef. Yet love is more akin to cooking one another meals for the joy of feeding the other, the coziness that comes from nurturing being the reward. What you saw and felt isn’t love at all; I’m sorry that I failed to teach you, yet it was also your duty to learn.

I should have seen the signs, how you were cold, how you never took the initiative for connecting with touching words or physical love. I should have seen how every good thing you achieved was solely accredited to you, yet all my achievements were also accredited to you. I wish you had learned humility, humbleness and kindness, the happiness that comes from feeling like part of a team, one where each is boosted by the other, proud of the other’s success. Love brings joy to giving, it is the difference between feeling as a valued helping friend or a slave; it’s the magic ingredient that makes everything wonderful. What you showed me was indifference to my pains, refusing my emotional needs, demanding resilience and compliance.

We’ve all got these trauma brains now, brains that developed with less love than we needed, crap food, and violence. We’ve all got these short attention spans and the need to pull people close only to push them away when things get hard. It’s that urge to run, that fear of trust, that uncomfortableness with nurturing love – addicted to the dysfunction and rejecting the cure. 

In this breakup I won’t break; I refuse to because I choose to live again. I choose to love again with full power because anything less would feel anemic. In my pain, I thought you were close to evil, yet in truth, you’re drowning in a sea of your uncried tears. How can a soul be healthy if you refuse to feel your pain? Every time I said sweet things you would say they were “creepy” and I’d die a little more inside. Over the years I forgot what it was to smile from joy instead of painting a smile upon my face for others, one that felt empty and wrong. The truth is, we were simply wrong for each other – you prefer a cold environment and suspect love as a form of manipulation – to you only direct speech with no “sugar coating” is “truth.” Yet in that utilitarian life, a butterfly of the soul dies, for we need the sweet nectar of the flowers and the warm rays of the sun. The sweet words, the laughter, the silliness, and the spontaneous hugs are as needed as the air we breathe. The sad thing is, I think you cold types need it too, that’s why you seek us and cling to our warmth until our fire is extinguished.

You don’t even deserve a thank you but I’m going to give you one anyway. Thank you for almost breaking me. I never understood that line before. It used to sound like permission, albeit retroactive, to hurt someone. I get it now. Only a lover can wound so deep, cut to the very core. That level of trauma has to be an inside job. You were so close to breaking me and watching me bleed. You saw me fail to eat, fail to sleep, and you kept on the pressure with your lies and manipulations, increasing the level of cruelty as you went. After all that, what can there be left underneath but the untouchable part of me, my soul, the girl you can never hurt. I can’t be more raw than that, more exposed, more pure.

– The warmth you lost

Scene: In this scene, Lily and Kath arrive at the Telegraph Club. They sit in a small space between a table and the wall, but Lily is jealous of the “people seated near the edge.” Tommy Andrews finally comes out and makes her way through the crowd. Lily is intensely aware of Tommy’s physical presence and entranced by the spotlight scintillating on “Tommy’s short hair, highlighting the way it was cut sharp against the nape of the neck, right above the white collar that was crisply framed by a black tuxedo jacket.” As Tommy sings with her “low and husky” voice, Lily realizes that “despite the clothes that Tommy wore, despite the attitude that invited everyone in the room to gaze at her, she was not a man,” and the fact that “Tommy was a woman made of flesh and blood,” frightens Lily (Lo 140-142).

Background: In Part II, Lily and Kathleen continue to spend time together and begin to talk about romantic love and female attraction. To avoid going to the school dance with Will, Lily volunteers to assist Shirley on the committee. At the dance, Lily leaves her station at the refreshments table to walk outside with Kath, who suggests that her friend Jean could acquire a fake ID for Lily so she can go to the Telegraph Club. Part III is set in November 1954. Chapter 19 begins with Lily getting out of bed on a Friday night with the intention of sneaking out to meet Kath and go to the Telegraph Club.

Analysis: Chapter 20 is significant as it establishes a new setting, expanding Lily’s character. The Telegraph Club is a bar, a performance venue that caters to queer women in San Francisco, and a major part of the book’s title—Last Night at the Telegraph Club. Apart from providing Lily with a sense of belonging that she was unable to find elsewhere, the club also serves as the indirect cause of Lily’s budding relationship with Kath. Lily first becomes aware of the club when she notices an advertisement for a performance by Tommy Andrews there, and the picture of Tommy, which falls into Kath’s hands by accident, sparks conversations between the two girls about queer love and attraction. When Lily and Kath attend Tommy’s performance at the club, Lily notices that she was the only Chinese girl in the room, which meant that there was no one from Chinatown to recognize her, but it also made her more noticeable. The oppressive context of the 1950s and certain expectations placed upon her by her family, friends, and the Chinatown community looms over Lily’s every decision. In this pivotal moment, Lily simply delights in taking courage and therefore control of her life, rather than expressing outright disdain or rebellion. The scene leads to Lily’s own gradual realization of her sexuality while she learns how to switch between being outwardly heterosexual Chinatown Lily and lesbian Telegraph Bar Lily. Ultimately, The Telegraph Club enables Lily to develop a sense of community and confidence that allows her to move forward in her relationship with Kath and her life. 

In her historical romance Last Night at The Telegraph Club, Malinda Lo uses sensory language in order to contrast masculinity and femininity. The novel’s prologue introduces the topic of how gender preconceptions may be damaging when Lily observes the Miss Chinatown contenders. She is captivated by the girls’ similarities and their adoption of American beauty standards, but she recognizes how this exposes them to criticism, as even her friend Shirley notes that one of the girls is “acting like she’s a Hollywood star or something” (Lo 6).

Simultaneously, the symbolism of the color red, representing the allure and danger of womanhood, is established. Lily observes that the girls competing in the Miss Chinatown beauty pageant are wearing “bright red lipstick on their mouths” and “scarlet polish on their fingernails.” She also notices that one of the girls has developed “an ugly red mark where the back of the shoe had rubbed against her Achilles tendon” (Lo 4). The contrast between their lipstick and nail paint, which show them expressing a singular, stereotyped concept of femininity, and the girl’s wound highlights the desire to adhere to this femininity as well as the possible individual repercussions of straining to fit a generic mold.

Furthermore, Lo extends the idea of how stereotypical gender roles can represent an obstacle to achieving an understanding of one’s gender and sexuality. Lily notices the newspaper ad promoting Tommy Andrews’ appearance at the Telegraph Club and is intrigued by the photograph of Tommy, she tears the ad and stuffs it in her pocket. When her family had finally gone to bed, she gingerly “pulled out the newspaper ad and set it on top of the books that made her nightstand. She had folded it into a small square, but now it began to open of its own accord, parting like the wings of a butterfly” (Lo 28). The unfolding of the paper suggests a natural momentum beyond Lily’s control, and is symbolic of her sexual identity’s uncontrollable nature. Lily is startled at first by the movement of the ad, but eventually reaches for it and unfolds it, succumbing to her own curiosity. This is the start of a chain of events that will lead to her going to the Telegraph Club and starting a relationship with her classmate Kathleen Miller.

William Shakespeare’s tragedy Romeo and Juliet is about two young star-crossed lovers whose deaths eventually reconcile their divided families. Despite Romeo’s decision to marry Juliet, Romeo and Juliet’s death was the outcome of fate. 

The power of free will is depicted when Romeo asked for him and Juliet to get married, even though they had known each other for less than a day. Romeo made this decision when he said, ”I’ll tell thee as we pass, but this I pray, thou consent to marry us today” (2.3.63-64). Ironically, Friar Lawrence married Romeo and Juliet, even though he saw signs of danger while he was getting them married. He states that “These violent delights have violent ends” (2.4 9) but still married the couple, which resulted in Romeo and Juliet’s death. The power of free will is demonstrated when Tybalt killed Mercutio, causing Romeo to kill Tybalt. The decision to kill Mercutio was made when Romeo said, “Draw, Benvolio, beat down their weapons. Gentlemen, for sham forebear this outrage!” (3.1 78-82). 

The play’s introductory lines; “From forth the fatal loins of these two foes; A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life… The fearful passage of their death-mark’d love,” allude to the lovers being born from their parents’ “fatal loins,” as well as the fact that they will kill themselves. Their births and deaths are both stated in a single sentence, implying that their deaths were predetermined from the time they were born. This is furthermore demonstrated in Romeo’s words “I fear too early, for my mind misgives; Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, Shall bitterly begin his fearful date” (1.4.114-115). Before he goes to the masquerade where he will meet Juliet, the event that began the whole story, Romeo has a feeling that the consequences of his decision to go will be “bitter.” He suspects that this is his fate—“hanging in the stars”—and his use of the word “stars” reminds the audience that he is “star-crossed” (1.1.14-15). Romeo’s lines “Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear; That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops—” shows that Romeo believes in fate. This is furthermore expressed when he cries out “Then I defy you, stars,” after learning of Juliet’s death, showing that Romeo knew that the “stars” were playing a role in his life. 

Throughout the play, fate has played a major role in Romeo and Juliet’s life starting with the introductory lines “A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;” and ending with “thus with a kiss I die,” (Prologue.5).