cincin chang
"Those of us who were born on islands are all solo islands in this world.”
The language of the colonized was folded by those in power; the identities of migrants are folded by oceans and continents; and nonlinear time was folded into a narrow line within faith.
If the journey’s purpose is to find the way home, then each repeated passage is an encounter with origins. Those borrowed, collective, and unclaimed struggles will ultimately return to the folds of spacetime, driving the next moment of color at its boiling point as I say, “I am_”