HeyJaredthis rubble is ours
literary works of a poet, essayist, literary curator, and humanitarian. sayeda’s writing explores displacement, identity, and resilience.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 7
- Latest publication
- Sep 11, 2026
- Audience
- Checking…
- Earliest in this view
- Jul 10, 2026
Latest issues
finding love wherever my grandpa is (opens the original)
Read excerpt
i.when I was seven years old, I found myself under Kabul’s beating sun in the summer of 2007. I remember going for a motorcycle ride with my uncle one day, he stopped to buy me a cup of sugar cane juice. I was perched on the back of his motorcycle when the sugar cane man handed me a cup of green liquid with white foam collecting at the top. the juice sloshed in my stomach when I asked for more in my broken pashto. my uncle didn’t care that my Pashto was terrible or that I didn’t look like my par
therapy might be working (opens the original)
Read excerpt
do you ever notice how much noise there is around you? are the thoughts inside of you louder than the noise? does the good dissipate in a way where you can’t find it even if you’re looking? are there rooms where the thoughts quiet down? or are you always alone in your mind? do you know how to sit with yourself? do you like you? how often do you get mad at yourself for feeling shitty? how often are you disappointed in yourself when you’re sad? do you remember that you can change things? do you kn
what the hell am I still doing here? (opens the original)
Read excerpt
my best friend lays her head on my chest while I watch an episode of shameless. we’re at work and on lunch, I'm on the episode where frank shaves carl’s head to pretend he has cancer so that they can meet the bulls team. bushra was always more of the hugger, she’s the kind of person that remembers to tell you that she loves you when you get out of her car. she tells you all the things you don’t want to hear but really nicely. she holds your hand when you make decisions she doesn’t agree with and
steve lacy's album: oh yeah (opens the original)
Read excerpt
oh yeah life’s a bitch, and then you live again. steve puts me in a field where I am running, the sun hits my bare back and my chest is warm with a love that doesn’t leave. somehow my heart is full, somehow everyone I ever loved is still here. somehow no one ever left, somehow I never had reason to leave. somehow everyone is too young to die, somehow we are all always still so young. this song makes me feel like I'm running through a green field, everyone talks about frolicking in a field but
on my desire to wear basketball shorts as a hijabi (opens the original)
Read excerpt
<img alt="" class="sizing-normal" height="326.6666666666667" src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!i4M3!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fdf07d75f-7e0d-4e91-a588-8ffcdbed2174
Publishing over time
Last 90 days. Choose a month to open its work.
Recurring subjects
Named in the text we hold. One piece can cover several.
Audience
No verified audience measurement yet.
About this data
Counts cover the work we have indexed. Tone needs enough text and a confident classification. Excerpts and episode notes are not full articles or transcripts.
Identity or attribution wrong? Suggest a correction.