Ocean Vuong

It was deeply important to me. I lost my uncle in 2012 to suicide. He was 28, I was 24, so he's really a brother. We were both born in Vietnam. We went through the refugee camps together. My first memory in my life ever is sitting on the curb in Hartford with him eating red sour belts.

It was deeply important to me. I lost my uncle in 2012 to suicide. He was 28, I was 24, so he's really a brother. We were both born in Vietnam. We went through the refugee camps together. My first memory in my life ever is sitting on the curb in Hartford with him eating red sour belts.

It was deeply important to me. I lost my uncle in 2012 to suicide. He was 28, I was 24, so he's really a brother. We were both born in Vietnam. We went through the refugee camps together. My first memory in my life ever is sitting on the curb in Hartford with him eating red sour belts.

And we got it from a corner store, a candy store, where probably the last one that was ever like this, where there was giant glass jars of candy, and the man took it out and weighed it. Sounds like something from 60 years ago. But that's my first memory on this earth. And when someone stepped away from the ledge... Everybody claps in the news segments, in the films, in the stories.

And we got it from a corner store, a candy store, where probably the last one that was ever like this, where there was giant glass jars of candy, and the man took it out and weighed it. Sounds like something from 60 years ago. But that's my first memory on this earth. And when someone stepped away from the ledge... Everybody claps in the news segments, in the films, in the stories.

And we got it from a corner store, a candy store, where probably the last one that was ever like this, where there was giant glass jars of candy, and the man took it out and weighed it. Sounds like something from 60 years ago. But that's my first memory on this earth. And when someone stepped away from the ledge... Everybody claps in the news segments, in the films, in the stories.

And I always wonder, are they clapping for the person? Or are they clapping because society has been restored? Because for that person, they have stepped away from the ledge into a corner. At the heart of it, suicide is still an act of hope. One does it in the hopes of ending immense suffering.

And I always wonder, are they clapping for the person? Or are they clapping because society has been restored? Because for that person, they have stepped away from the ledge into a corner. At the heart of it, suicide is still an act of hope. One does it in the hopes of ending immense suffering.

And I always wonder, are they clapping for the person? Or are they clapping because society has been restored? Because for that person, they have stepped away from the ledge into a corner. At the heart of it, suicide is still an act of hope. One does it in the hopes of ending immense suffering.

So I've always wondered what day two was like for someone who decides, God willing, to step back to life. And it was never a question I got to ask my uncle because he went through with it. So to me, fiction is a fantastical second chance to launch questions that you never got to ask in life. And I knew that often at the end of the story is where a life is saved, traditionally.

So I've always wondered what day two was like for someone who decides, God willing, to step back to life. And it was never a question I got to ask my uncle because he went through with it. So to me, fiction is a fantastical second chance to launch questions that you never got to ask in life. And I knew that often at the end of the story is where a life is saved, traditionally.

So I've always wondered what day two was like for someone who decides, God willing, to step back to life. And it was never a question I got to ask my uncle because he went through with it. So to me, fiction is a fantastical second chance to launch questions that you never got to ask in life. And I knew that often at the end of the story is where a life is saved, traditionally.

And we all feel good and cathartic and we go home. But I wanted to commit a life to be saved at the beginning. When you step away from that ledge, you still don't have hope. You still don't have the answers. Your life is still in shambles. How do you go on from there? And the culture tells us that we have to go out and find the reason to live. And in this scene, he lives because he forgets to die.

And we all feel good and cathartic and we go home. But I wanted to commit a life to be saved at the beginning. When you step away from that ledge, you still don't have hope. You still don't have the answers. Your life is still in shambles. How do you go on from there? And the culture tells us that we have to go out and find the reason to live. And in this scene, he lives because he forgets to die.

And we all feel good and cathartic and we go home. But I wanted to commit a life to be saved at the beginning. When you step away from that ledge, you still don't have hope. You still don't have the answers. Your life is still in shambles. How do you go on from there? And the culture tells us that we have to go out and find the reason to live. And in this scene, he lives because he forgets to die.

He's, you know, this woman's losing her laundry. And he's like, hey, your sheets. And he forgets. And I think to me, that little gesture is actually how a lot of life works. You know, when my uncle... He had a note, and I'll just paraphrase it. There's a lot said there that I will not share, but there's one that I think is really useful to share.

He's, you know, this woman's losing her laundry. And he's like, hey, your sheets. And he forgets. And I think to me, that little gesture is actually how a lot of life works. You know, when my uncle... He had a note, and I'll just paraphrase it. There's a lot said there that I will not share, but there's one that I think is really useful to share.

He's, you know, this woman's losing her laundry. And he's like, hey, your sheets. And he forgets. And I think to me, that little gesture is actually how a lot of life works. You know, when my uncle... He had a note, and I'll just paraphrase it. There's a lot said there that I will not share, but there's one that I think is really useful to share.

And you would think that we want the big reasons to step out of this world. But his reason was very, very small and maybe even ambivalent. Where he said, I just had enough. I'm so sorry. I had enough. As if he was pushing back a second plate. It was this small gesture. And for me, coming from the working poor, I understood it, but I wonder if the larger culture who doesn't experience that know.

And you would think that we want the big reasons to step out of this world. But his reason was very, very small and maybe even ambivalent. Where he said, I just had enough. I'm so sorry. I had enough. As if he was pushing back a second plate. It was this small gesture. And for me, coming from the working poor, I understood it, but I wonder if the larger culture who doesn't experience that know.