Johanna PorembaA writer’s mind is a muscle.When regularly oiled, it runs smoothly and seamlessly with life itself. Creative thoughts emerge like swollen clouds dancing across one’s…Jan 5, 2021Jan 5, 2021
Johanna PorembaBlue.I walk outside to meet the scent of freshly fallen rain. The birds are singing loudly, feasting on tonight’s catch. It’s all so beautiful…Jun 2, 2020Jun 2, 2020
Johanna PorembaLetter to My Future SelfWhen they come, I hope you are ready. I hope you are ready to teach them the things your parents were not strong enough to teach you.May 21, 2020May 21, 2020
Johanna PorembaTime is a Privilege.Your vessel will rot as it cycles around the sun and gravity pulls your flesh towards the earth. You will die — make no mistake. The world…Jan 22, 2020Jan 22, 2020
Johanna PorembaAt what point does a moment become a memory?You see, for someone like me, the moment when you are first told, “you have cancer,” never seems to become a memory. For someone like me…May 13, 2017May 13, 2017
