Writing True

Why I’m Listening to “This Is Our Hawaii”

What podcasts are you listening to?

Hawaii is more than just my home; it’s a source of endless fascination. I love my state, and I want to know everything there is to know about it. That’s why I’ve been hooked on “This Is Our Hawaii,” a podcast from Hawaii Public Radio. It’s like a deep dive into the islands’ past, present, and future, bringing stories to life that most people might never hear.

Take this, for example: did you know that one of Hawaii’s islands, now worth billions, was once sold for just a dollar? It’s mind-blowing details like these that keep me listening, episode after episode. Through this podcast, I’m discovering pieces of Hawaiian history, culture, and community that I never knew, each episode connecting me more deeply to the place I call home.

So if Hawaii intrigues you—whether you’re a local or simply curious about these islands—go check out “This Is Our Hawaii.” It’s available at Hawaii Public Radio.

Writing True

Memoir: My Journey with English

What was your favorite subject in school?

From my earliest days in school, English has been more than a subject; it has been a portal into the art of expression, the gateway through which I discovered the boundless realms of language. I love writing and scribbling, a feeling so deeply woven into me that it becomes an extension of my very being. To write is to pour my heart out onto the page, to give form to my thoughts and dreams. And so, each piece becomes a work in progress, a canvas I revisit again and again, tirelessly revising until it reflects precisely what I want to say.

Though English was not my first language, I approached it with the humility and respect it deserved. From prep school to college, I strove to master its nuances, and I was proud yet grounded in my achievements, consistently earning straight A’s in English. Behind each grade, however, lay hours of reading, absorbing quality sources that broadened my understanding. I would immerse myself in words crafted by masters of the language, learning not only the technique but the essence of voice and style.

In my writing, I strive for a certain finesse. I write with intention, with a distinct voice that reflects not only my inner self but my perspective on the world around me. It is my way of understanding myself and of connecting to others. Writing has never been just an academic exercise; it is my lens, my anchor, my way of exploring the infinite spaces within and around us all. And in every piece, my aim is not perfection, but something even richer—a reflection of truth, shaped and polished, in my own unique words.

Writing True

Common Sense

You passed the torch

When the rain, the storm was raging—

Of course, it’ll burn out.

Now, the true horror is in.

Brace yourself!

Essay · Narrative · Non-Fiction · Prose · Writing True

Who Doesn’t Need Time?

Do you need time?

Time is the quiet tyrant, invisible and insatiable, a master whose hands turn every moment into memory, every breath into a thread unraveling. It strides unseen, yet rules with iron grace, painting our lives in invisible brushstrokes, etching our joys and sorrows with a patient, relentless hand.

Time wears a thousand faces. It is the dawn that whispers promises of tomorrow, the dusk that steals light from the sky. It is the clock’s gentle ticking, each second a silver needle stitching us closer to both the unknown and the inevitable. Like a river winding through valleys of hope and mountains of regret, time flows forward, never pausing to admire the landscapes it shapes, never swayed by pleas for mercy or haste.

It is both blessing and thief, granting youth in one hand, taking innocence in the other. Lovers swear by it—forever, they say, as if time itself could be charmed, as if they could cage its wild heart. But time laughs, knowing that all vows are but echoes that fade, promises like petals falling in a summer storm. It keeps its own counsel, loyal only to the unyielding march toward tomorrow.

And yet, in all its ironies, time is the tender artist, sculpting the wrinkles of wisdom on an elder’s face, leaving memories like fragrant blossoms in the minds of those who linger. It is a paradox of permanence and impermanence, giving meaning to the fleeting, turning moments into mosaics, seconds into stories. For time is not cruel—it simply does not care.

“Tick, tock,” it hums, its voice a lullaby and a warning, as it spins the universe upon an unseen axis, binding the world together with a pulse that neither slows nor stills. It is the heartbeat of history, the measure of all things mortal, the silent sovereign whose rule cannot be broken, whose essence is mystery itself.

Love · Musing · Non-Fiction · Prose · Writing True

Drifters We Are; Drifters We’d Be

As inevitable as sunset, is our bittersweet destiny.

At the crossroads, they met like rivers converging under an indigo sky, both drifters, wanderers who found in each other the quiet music of belonging. Their laughter spilled like honey in the cool night air; their dreams danced together in whispered promises, as if love was a warm fire to sit beside after the long, lonely road.

But love, as pure as it was, could not bend the lines of fate or turn the sands of time. It was as though they’d found a moment too brief to nestle their roots, too fragile to weather the turn of seasons. For as they stood at that crossroad, each facing their own horizon, they knew: love itself was never wrong, only time was fleeting, and sometimes hearts bloom in different soil.

“We are stars whose paths crossed,” they murmured softly, “celestial in our meeting, but destined to drift.” And as they parted, the ache in their chests was a tender reminder that some love exists only to be remembered—a quiet echo, a soft ache, a memory of warmth. Love endures, even in separation, forever unbroken by distance or time.

For in the language of the heart, no love is wasted, no touch in vain. And when they look back, it will be with knowing smiles, with whispered truths shared only with the stars.

YouTube/Audrey Hepburn/Moon River
Diversity · Essay · Essay · Non-Fiction

The Need To Celebrate World’s Cultural Week

Invent a holiday! Explain how and why everyone should celebrate.

In a world increasingly interconnected through technology and trade, cultural uniqueness has become both a point of pride and a delicate treasure at risk of being diluted. Amid this vast, global blend, there is a profound need to celebrate, respect, and preserve the cultural diversity that makes our world so rich. World’s Cultural Week would serve as a vibrant platform, akin to the Olympic Games, for every nation to showcase its unique traditions, dances, and clothing. This initiative would offer the world an opportunity not only to observe each culture’s individual beauty but also to build a foundation of understanding, unity, and respect for diversity.

Culture is one of the most powerful elements that define us, shaping our identity, beliefs, and values. It encompasses our language, customs, dress, music, and dance. From India’s elegant saris to Scotland’s iconic kilts, from the rhythmic African drumming to the poetic movements of Japanese tea ceremonies, each culture tells a story that has been passed down through generations, preserving the unique lens through which its people view the world. However, as we continue to live in an era of rapid globalization, these diverse cultural expressions face unprecedented challenges, often being overshadowed by dominant global cultures. By establishing World’s Cultural Week, we would create a global stage to proudly celebrate these traditions, ensuring they remain alive and cherished by both current and future generations.

A week dedicated to cultural exchange would provide a rare opportunity to engage with the world’s rich diversity in a tangible way. Imagine witnessing traditional dances from every corner of the globe, from the powerful haka of the Māori people to the intricate ballet of Russian folk dancers. By observing these rituals, we come to appreciate the stories, values, and passions that unite communities worldwide. These experiences, however, would be more than mere entertainment; they would be an education, teaching us how to look beyond stereotypes, misunderstandings, and assumptions about one another. This exposure would foster an environment of curiosity, empathy, and admiration for the unfamiliar, creating stronger connections among people from all walks of life.

Cultural attire is another expressive art form that deserves a place on the world’s stage. Each garment, from an Ethiopian gabi to an ornate Chinese qipao, carries with it not only beauty but meaning, tradition, and identity. Clothing serves as a language of its own, with colors, patterns, and styles representing everything from social status to regional heritage. For instance, the vibrant red robes worn by the Maasai people of Kenya signify bravery, strength, and unity, while the colorful embroidery on Mexican huipiles reflects a connection to the earth, nature, and indigenous roots. Through World’s Cultural Week, the world would have a rare opportunity to witness and celebrate this diversity, cultivating an appreciation for the creativity and significance of each cultural expression.

Celebrating this diversity also has profound social benefits. It allows us to recognize our differences as strengths rather than points of division. The arts, music, and traditions of each culture show us the beauty of humanity in its many forms and invite us to find common ground within this diversity. Just as the Olympics foster a spirit of respect and camaraderie among nations, World’s Cultural Week would bring the world together in appreciation of each culture’s heritage. In seeing both the uniqueness and universality in each tradition, we would actively work against cultural biases and foster mutual respect, making strides toward a more inclusive and harmonious world.

Moreover, this initiative would create new opportunities for cultural preservation, as young generations would see the value and relevance of their heritage in a global context. Often, cultural traditions face the risk of fading away as younger generations adapt to modern lifestyles and influences. By bringing cultural practices to a world stage, World’s Cultural Week would give these traditions new life and importance, encouraging youth to explore and embrace their cultural roots. This initiative would also boost local economies, as artists, artisans, and performers would find a global platform for their crafts, reaching audiences and supporters beyond their borders.

World’s Cultural Week would be more than a spectacle; it would be a platform for building bridges across nations, enabling an exchange of ideas and values that goes beyond language barriers. In witnessing and celebrating each other’s cultural expressions, we would take a step toward understanding and valuing the myriad ways humanity finds meaning, joy, and identity. Through shared stories, dances, and clothing, we would celebrate not just our differences but our shared humanity, finding unity in diversity.

In conclusion, the need for World’s Cultural Week is clear. It would be an opportunity to honor and preserve the rich cultural tapestry of our world, fostering an environment where every nation’s heritage is valued and respected. This celebration would remind us that, although we are unique in our cultural expressions, we are all part of a shared human family. By embracing diversity through proactive celebration and exchange, we can move closer to a world that appreciates the beauty of differences and the strength of unity.

Creative · Gratitude · Non-Fiction · Writing True

The Beauty of Gratitude

Serene sunrise over a peaceful lake, capturing warmth and tranquility—behold!

In the quiet cradle of morning,

as dawn spills golden light across the earth,

gratitude awakens—a silent pulse,

a steady rhythm beneath the breath,

a whispered thanks woven into the air.

It’s the warmth of sun slipping through autumn leaves,

the gentle weight of time held in each fold,

the simple grace of standing still

and feeling, fully, this moment’s gift.

Gratitude unfurls like the petals of dawn,

unseen yet profoundly felt.

It’s the soul’s quiet bow to the small and the grand,

to laughter shared, to hands held close,

to the way a storm clears the air.

It’s found in a stranger’s kind smile,

in the silent strength of a friend,

in the heartbeat hum of life’s ordinary days,

where beauty is buried, waiting to bloom.

Gratitude is the gentle teacher,

softening the edges,

guiding us back to all that is ours

by reminding us we are whole,

rooted in love and a thousand tiny gifts

we didn’t know we’d earned.

And as night falls, folding day into dusk,

it is there, resting gently,

a quiet ember glowing in the chest—

a quiet, fervent thank you,

a promise to hold every moment close,

to be moved by the beauty of life’s passing light,

to live each breath in gratitude’s grace.

For in this soft surrender, we find the truth:

that gratitude, once sparked,

sets the heart alight—

a candle illuminating every darkened path,

a radiance that fills the empty spaces,

making us, somehow, more whole,

made strong by the beauty we have held.

Nature · Non-Fiction · Ode

Ode to the Scent of Autumn

Courtesy of Pexels

Oh, fragrant breath of autumn’s slow descent,

You linger soft in whispers on the breeze,

With notes of auburn, amber, gold, all spent

In leaf and bark, among the mighty trees.

A haunting beauty wraps the world in hues

Of dying light, yet vibrant still, and bold.

Each scent, like age-old stories, winds and woos—

The musk of earth, a flame to chase the cold.

Your air holds echoes of forgotten days,

Of laughter lost, yet somehow near at hand;

In every scent, a memory’s warm blaze,

A spark of life now scattered through the land.

Nostalgia stirs, both bittersweet and kind,

And with it, tears—joy’s laughter laced with pain.

For autumn calls our truest selves to mind,

In every fading leaf, a sweet refrain.

So linger here, dear season of the heart,

Where scents and colors mourn yet celebrate.

In fleeting hours, you weave your tender art,

A beauty only time can consecrate.