I can pretend this idea came to me as I sipped my morning coffee, pen in hand, writing in my journal. Of course, I would be seated in a cemented floor cafe. Preferably chewing on cinnamon toast, as I cozy myself near the soft whine of jazz coming from the ground speakers. I wish this projection of my idyllic self could be my reality. I wish I could say that my ideas began in an “enlightened” place, a clean place.

But sadly no, the inspiration for this blog came to me on a particular Bay Area night, where the gray fog swallowed the City. I was getting off of BART, 5pm, it was already dark. I was waiting in line at the makeshift temporary bus stop. Strangers passed by, still donning the blase required for city life. I stood there beside discarded folding chairs with my hoodie up, my commuting face on, and my hands in my pockets firmly grasping my pepper spray and clipper card. As I waited the cold 30 mins for the bus to come, I began to contemplate my goals in life. I want to be a writer, I want to be an artist, I want to create, yet here I was standing on the fog soaked sidewalk, working as an assistant in an office without windows.

And that is where this blog was born, on the sidewalks of El Cerrito. This is where I will express myself, in the unedited, uncensored, and unscripted forms of prose poems and flash fiction. I will make it a point to write daily. I want to challenge myself to write a prose a day.

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