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The Things I Carry (written 2017)
I carry papers, pens, and erasers. I carry blank sheets of paper and I carry papers filled. Words crossed, highlighted and bolded communicate mental preoccupations. I carry the weight of my limitations, the things that remind me what I can and cannot do. I carry the weight of knowledge of things, things I should not know and should not tell. I carry the weight of memory. Memory of ancestors murdered in the name of intimidation, slaughtered for deviant imaginations, assassinat

Camille Aguilar


Thoughts on Identity (written 2016)
What is difference? What is similarity? Are there definitions for these words or are am I asking some philosophical question? I sat in my school’s meeting house as my mind raced with questions. The facilitator had asked the group us to divide into “white” and “of color.” My thick fingers gripped the black denim covering my – even thicker – thighs. My feet tapped back and forth, playing their part in the colonial room’s deafening symphony. My peer’s breaths escaped in and ou

Camille Aguilar