Branding, Algorithms, Pain in the Arse: Dancing around Ourselves

What kind of music do you play? What race are you? Who did you vote for?

FACEBOOK PRAYER

Lord Facebook! Please like me!

Humans Love Humans (Immigrant’s Observations)

When I look around hoping to see freedom, I see survival and maybe content. It bothers me because it screams of emotional poverty. And I know it’s conditioned because everybody is born with bright eyes.

Being Squashed for Being a Whore, Or…?

On that day, I avoided the path of a linguist / ethnomusicologist turned sex slave by an inch.

Pain Excites You More Than I Do

So, once again I independently decide that you don't love me. You deny it, you say it's not it. I have a hard time buying it because I know how people act when they are in love. They can't bear long separation, they can't help responding to texts, it's the Force that...

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A Letter of Heartbreak

Last week, you were my baby. You were undoubtedly my baby. My own. You are now some dude. I can stop talking to you in my head. I am pacing my apartment, even my cat looks half-orphaned. I miss you horribly. I think about all the good things we've had and I...

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Little Deaths

A ghost of you is everywhere. I feel dumb, helpless and enlightened. I think about all the places where we used to go every weekend. Restaurants, our faces, laughing. Trust, ease, feeling comfortable. Where the fuck did it all go? I refuse to think about quantum...

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A Story of a Song

“I Miss You.” I wrote it many years ago and somehow, it still has its own place in my heart. I was so excited about the guy! He was my perfect type. While being my perfect type, he was hurting me. He was arrogant. He was unfaithful. He was lecturing me on being square because I objected to him kissing other girls (in front of me, none the less). I remember thinking, “One day, he will understand. One day, one day, he will appreciate me and understand.”

And then I lost interest.

And then he died. Drugs.

I fully and completely forgave him. I wish him peace somewhere away from me.

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Domestic Abuse (My Real Story)

When I was growing up, every day was a holiday. All things dark lived on the other side of the galaxy. Stupid things clearly were happening to stupid people who didn’t know better, to people who were less informed, to people who weren’t me. My life was an official walk to the bright future. I was an invincible sunny kid bringing home straight A’s, studying classical piano and Tibetan language, speaking at international conferences, hanging out with the rebels and playing in a band. I was dreaming big, problems were not problems. I was on the forefront of everything, and the world was mine.

Then I came to America.

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Tessa is a strongly opinionated singer and musician living in New York. Her background is in classical piano, linguistics, computers, ethnomusicology, and Tibetan studies. She fronts Tessa Makes Love.

Robots are on her shit list, and this blog is about not taking shit from the machine.