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identity

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I’ve always been quite fond of my name—Iris. My mother’s decision to name me after the rainbow goddess turned out to be fitting for the years to come as I grew up between a clash of cultures and identities. The different colors of what I had seen, felt…

There is something strangely sad about watching cars drive away, especially ones you know well. It is that feeling of an almost-loss, like you are teetering at the edge of the realization that the car is too far away to call back. Soon, it will turn the corner…