The struggle to search for meaning. It’s 2020. There’s art.
This time last year I was bawling my eyes out in a public restroom.
When the world burns, so do our hearts.
Are the bright lights dimming?
Regardless of where your medical degree will take you, any issue will always be political, it will always be economic, it will always be social…
It’s almost art season in the Philippines. Time to rise from the (metaphorical) grave.
If you’re going through hell, keep smiling.
It’s been a month and some change since I turned 24. It’s time to say thank you.
I was that baby doctor who aspired towards the most unknown and unknowable.
The art of medicine is a lot like the art of writing.