Mar 29 2019


I think we all have our demons and our various shortcomings, and it would be nice if people felt more gently about other people, but also about themselves - Michelle Huneven. This right here has been the theme of my self care reflections for the past few weeks. If you have been following along, you would notice that I’m very intentional when it comes to loving myself. I take time to affirm myself. I breathe deeply to center myself. I read to help reorient my mindset each day. I listen to encouraging and uplifting music. I hang out with folks who can uplift, not drain my energy. And yet, I feel each day searching and running towards a reality that keeps running away from me. Can you imagine the amount of patience and strength needed to stay the course when you constantly feel like there are no “results”? Whatever feeling you just imagined or experienced just now, has been a cloud that has been looming over my heart recently. And then I thought to myself, am I really embracing every part of me? Imagine the classic demon and angel on your shoulders for a second. When you think of self care, whose voice would you pay attention to? The demon or the angel? If I am guessing correctly here, I would say the angel. (And I don’t mean to bring religion into this conversation, just as a means of picturing our tendencies.) As we go back to this picture, we notice that the demon is not given any attention. In my personal life, the demon represents my shortcomings. It represents the hard truths that I don’t want to face. It represents the guilt, the shame, the doubt, and the insecurities that I carry from day to day. It is that thing that I don’t want to admit exists in my life. And I am sure that you have your own demon. Whether you identity with it, embrace it, neglect it, is another conversation. But the fact that it exists is something, I believe, that demands our attention from time to time. I believe we can learn a lot from our darkness. For example, there is so much that can be said about releasing anger and identifying with it for a moment. Sometimes, the best thing I can do to help myself get over a situation is to scream really loud. As if I was a lion, I would roar very loud and squeeze my lungs to get as much tension out as possible. And that vibration that resonates throughout my upper body ends up giving me a sense of relief. Another example, is when I write down my doubts and fears. I would go down and take a deep breathe about each line of fear or doubt. It’s an interesting feeling. I don’t quite feel deflated or anxious, but I feel sort of humble and grateful. It seems ironic and it could seem like a self sabotaging exercise. In fact, it’s very therapeutic. You end up releasing the shame and guilt that you feel about lying to yourself about who you are. And I believe you actually start to trust yourself over time. The accumulation of these merits ends up defining, I believe, the most important relationship you have in your life. With yourself. This one is especially scary because there is a possibility that your subconscious mind could anchor to those thoughts or self-defeating beliefs. I believe the intention behind each and every action determines whether you latch onto those thoughts, but every one of us are different when it comes to digesting information or feelings. If you try this, please proceed with caution, but I bet ya you’ll thanks yourself later down the road. Deep Breathe
Mar 19 2019


“Allow yourself to enjoy each happy moment in your life” – Steve Maraboli. As of recently, I’ve come to really see noticeable examples of life as the ultimate projection of our internal feelings. The moment that triggered it was a wellness training I attended at my job. In the few days leading up to the training, I had no idea what to expect, other than the fact that it was going to be an easy going day. When the day arrived, I saw cheerful co-workers just mingling and spending some good quality time. It was super easy going and the instructor of the training provided an awesome environment for us to feel free and to let go of any anxieties, fears, doubts, and she made sure to reassure a healing space. Her energy by far was the biggest impact for me. Her energy radiated from within her and she felt sort of angelic. I noticed that her impact was so powerful in those who interacted with her too. They all had an empathic, kind face towards her. It felt like she created an environment that swallowed those who were in close proximity. We became a little bit loose, a bit slow, we breathed deeply into our bellies, we all became radiant with our energy. As I continued to observe her, a sudden epiphany hit me. She was unapologetic about the joy that she brought into the world. She laughed more than you’d expect. She smiled more than you expect. She embraced more than you’d expect. And her hugs were full of love. I felt the love that she had for herself. Of course, she directed love towards me and hoped to impart her energy unto me, but it felt like I was sharing in the actual love she had for herself. It was warm, genuine, and it felt real. So, afterwards, it only made me question myself about the sort of love that I have for myself. Do I appreciate myself? Am I grateful for the life I live? Am I unapologetically living my life? Am I expanding each and everyday embracing as much of myself as I can?
Feb 05 2019


Today I give all that I am away. I create more distance between me and the real me. I am observant, and distant. I am present of course, don't get me wrong, but at the same time, I shy away from being trapped by an identity. What is an identity anyway? Who came up with that? And why haven't they realized that the actual forming of an identity in itself is a form of conformity. At least, for me it is now. I used to really believe in the idea of belonging to a certain group, tribe, click, in order to feel a sense of direction and certainty. There is perks to that. There is probably a connection made with those like minded individuals who can share similar thoughts of being. I can see how this gives you courage and confidence to march forth into life. To me that life would be boring. It lacks imagination. It lacks more of the heart. It lacks the spontaneity. I mean, how do you capture true love with your brain? By love, I mean for life itself. How does a child expect to live life loving only one person, one toy, one game, one whatever you can come up with. I believe life is wayyy more interesting with diversity of experiences and ideas. And identifying with one *fill in the blank* makes it one dimensional. Remember to breathe
Jan 22 2019


Something about the breath, that keeps me vibrating at the most high. the whole process of breathing deeply slows down my body. It shifts it into restoration mode. At that moment, the body vibrates mightly. It stands in a quick sand. It moves those same mountains. It provides a space for the three pillars to submerge: spirit, mind, and body. They all come together to create an energy that can arouse the most cancerous cells to go onto an ultimate detox. It provides vitality. It is a an environment that supports life and reproduction. It is the primitive state. It removes all distractions. Only for a split second of a moment, powerful enough to call immediate transformation of matter on all levels ~ Breath
Dec 20 2018


“The Earth has its music for those who will listen” - George Santayana. The more I listen, the more I feel that Mother Nature brings the best out of me. I am falling too, too much for her. I crave her every moment. She comforts me when my mind races with anxiety. She lets me laugh harder than my closest friend. Now that I think about it, she was always there. Must have been me. Because I only started to notice her presence. She is bold and clear. She always carries her wand that spits truth. Always dressed in green and brown. I love those colors. Especially when she sends me a selfie playing outside. Her energy emanates that of a young child: naive, bold, audacious. She cares for herself like I have never seen. The way she looks at herself when she stares in the mirror, makes me jealous. I want her to look into my eyes the same way. I want her to love me as she loves herself. But she doesn’t want to love me, she wants me to learn to love me. Why? Why must I go through hurdles to feel that same affection that I saw in the mirror? “To be there when I can’t,” she said. “Learn to love yourself and never leave it up to anyone else. Mark my words, there will come a time when you will go ahead and teach others to do the same. There is nothing more fulfilling than the genuine love that radiates from within.” That day was the best. That day was the first day of the rest of my life.
Dec 18 2018


“You have to build calluses on your brain just like how you build calluses on your hands. Callus your mind through pain and suffering” – David Goggins. I know it sounds a bit discomforting but for me, it has been one of my coping mechanisms when dealing with life’s blows. I think today we live in a very comfortable world, which I am grateful for. We have a lot services that provide many conveniences, some of which are cars, elevators, cell phones, etc. All these conveniences, although great, have allowed a good amount of us to get too comfortable and not develop ourselves for the never ceasing hardships of everyday life. And of course, this doesn’t apply to everyone, because we all navigate through life in different ways. For me, I have found that the more pain I experience, the stronger I become. It’s pretty weird how it works, and actually I am not sure why it works that way, but I’ve noticed it a few times. I guess the analogy that best describes this situation is that of body builders. They spend a majority of their time in the gym tearing away their muscles, and after some recovery, they walk away stronger and healthier. In the same way, I think that process of breaking and reconstruction really applies to the psychology of our mental fortitude. The more we bare down and embrace the pain, whatever the source may be, a heart break or a broken body part, it gives us something to look back on when an even bigger pain emerges. We give ourselves a chance to build a resume full of painful obstacles, cleared by our courage and persistence. In a way, it’s a form of healing. And I really believe that it can make a difference in the way we counsel others as well, when they are also going through their fair share of difficulties.
Dec 13 2018


For a good bit, I have relied on others to empower myself. Nothing wrong with that, but as you can imagine, when they are not around, there was a vacancy that I wasn't sure how to address. It was a sudden void that impacted my ability to trust my own company. I had never done it before. I knew I had tendencies to distance myself and hear my own intuition, but when I really spent time by myself, alone, with my own thoughts, ideas of doubt would start to surface. I would question my own sanity. Why did I want to be alone? Was I overly selfish? Was I considerate of the relationships that I had spent time developing and nourishing? Because sometimes, I felt obligated to be "there" with others. And the problems lies with the obligation itself. I shouldn't feel obligated to spend time with others. Rather, I should look forward to spending time. And this made me realize that I need to develop a fortress within myself. One that I can always go back to for healing and self care. Up until recently, I hadn't focused on this fortress. In fact, I didn't have one. I would allow the business of life to distract me from finding my own identity: the person that I aspired to be and the values that I wanted to represent. Having said that, I'm realizing that my main pillar in life should be self love. Without it as a foundation, I have realized that I cannot give myself fully to others who deserve my time and attention. And so I apologize for those who I have hurt and those who I haven't been clear with, with my sudden disappearance. As I continue to learn more about myself, I'm giving myself a chance to be the best me that I can be for you. Thank you.
Dec 10 2018


I Match words with intEntion and compare dates for progress. I overlay actioNs with past habits in search of pain within love, care, and kindness. I've replaced helplessness with initiative. Replacing broken clOckwork(eat, sleep, cry, and repeat) with diligeNce, self-agency, and affirmations on rEpeat. Turning down anger and vioLence for peace of mind and tranquility. Sometimes you smile (in my face) and I wonder why. Rarely do I have momentS when I feel you're being genuine. RnB taught us about love and Oldies taught me about backstabbErs. But... You love me You apologized You've changed I repeat this when I forget the good parts of you ... To a lover, a friend, a mother, a peer, a sibling. This message is for anyone that ever betrayed your trust and the struggle to gain it back.
Dec 05 2018


When was the last time you spent time consciously forgiving someone? My mom and I go way back. We have been around each other for almost a quarter of a century. Although, there was a period when we were separated for about 5 years. At that time, I was 7 years old and still in elementary school and I was learning to live without her. Thinking back, my dad and I actually spent 4 of those years quite close. We woke up together. Ate the first and last meals of the day, breakfast and dinner, together. I went to him for everything I needed. I learned to do better in school and stay out of trouble. I sort of got responsible for no apparent reason, just that the fact that me and my dad needed each other, you know. At the time my aunt (my dad's sister) would visit here and there to cook us some food. She would make sure to cook a week's worth of servings because dad and I hardly knew how to cook. There was one thing we knew how to cook though: potato sandwiches. We would boil 5 to 10 mini potatoes in a pot, take them out and peel them, sprinkle on some salt, vinegar, and the equivalent of olive oil. That used to be our go-to meal if we had finished my aunt's food, which by the way, were some of the best meals I ever had. It was some of the best time I have spent, being alive to date. Now, as I reflect on my years, one thing I have recently focused on is developing a relationship with my mom. Having being absent for those 5 years, I missed the sort of connection that I had forged with my dad. When we reconnected in 2007, I was 12 and had barely had any images of my mom. She was there from 0 to 7 but mentally, I couldn't remember anything that made me excited to see her again. Mind you, it had been 5 years. And you would expect that I would be so excited to see her but it felt like I couldn't resume our relationship, wherever it was back then when she first left my hometown. And now grown up, moved out, my mom and I have a lot of scars from each other. From the beginning of my teens years to my early twenties, we have quarreled day and night. She would try to help me understand her values, as would I. I started to find my independence in my identity and she hated it. She rejected the fact that I started to develop my own perspective on life. I hated the fact that she would complain about every aspect of my being. It's the traditional clash of the conservative mom vs the liberal son, both trying to hold on to something that means very much. And today, that relationship has gotten better, maybe a bit but no where from where I could say, "I love my mom". I really don't. It's not that I hate her, but love seems to be too much of a stretch to describe my feelings towards her. I WANT to love her. At least, I want to LEARN to love her. But I struggle every time, nitpicking everything she says that makes me cringe. I don't know if you can relate, but it seems very difficult for me to forgive her. My solution has been to love myself immensely to the point that I can't help, but by default, love her too. Maybe my self-love continues to grow and can pour over to her own cup. At least that's my hope.
Nov 23 2018


Authenticity makes a difference. That's a bold statement that I am prepared to clarify. Recently, I have undergone a transformation, I guess you could call it. I have gone from unaware to really aware of who I am and the situations I am in. And with that awareness, I have come to notice subtle differences in the way life has responded to me. In life, we develop a routine of unconsciously waking up each day without setting the frequency of energies we want to attract into our lives. What I mean is, for most of us, we do not take time to fully customize our lives by filtering things that we don't want. We sort of wing it and see how each situation pans out. And I understand that is a very general observation, but a valid one that begs the question, are we consistently in-tune with the truest version of ourselves? And we will use the phrase truest version, to define fully living out personally drawn expectations. This definition is in direct opposition of living out to someone else's expectations. Keep in mind those difference as I give a personal example. Recently, through some circumstances and changes in my life, I have come to stop clinging towards others, and start clinging to myself. It sounds pretty selfish, but what that means is, I started to fully prioritize me over anyone else in my life. I totally halted any and/or as much time I spent listening to others and started listening to me. What did I want? What made me happy? How did I want to live out my life? And that's when it hit me, all these questions, albeit individualistic, are important questions we must ask ourselves in order to fully serve others. It goes along the idea that a drowning man can't save a drowning man. And it's not that we are not capable of focusing on ourselves AND others. It's just that when we do not fully engage with our intrinsic feelings and intuitions, then we are too depleted to share our selves with others. Most of the time we do it regardless, but we end up hurting others and ourselves. This brings me back to the subject of this post, which is to say, the more time we spend getting to know ourselves without distractions, the more authentic we become. The process is a wholehearted focus on our internal compass as we look to fulfill our internal expectations. This leads to a drive and passion that can genuinely touch other people's lives. Great examples that exhibit this include Muhammed Ali, Mother Teresa, & Nelson Mandela. And these people have long been known for their accomplishments and accolades, but I believe that their drive to fully realize their values and beliefs about themselves radiated with many others who felt similar. As a result, they were to able to massively influence many lives in a single life span. Which brings me to my conclusion: living an authentic life is difficult and uncomfortable. We have to be able to confront every part of us: the good and the bad. And I think that's when happiness starts.
Nov 19 2018


I don't think I'm addicted. I have been smoking weed for the past 5 years and I feel fine. I turn in my homework on time. I get to my job on time and do a good job. My mom always wonders why I always go on walks at night before it's time for bed. Of course, I would never tell her because she would lose it. She imagines me as a good boy who has never done any of the top 3. Alcohol, Weed, & Sex. Coming from a very old fashion family, it would make sense why she would expect me to stay away. And I understand to an extent. She has grown up with that mentality for, pretty much all her life. And this concept of the individualistic millennial bothers the shit out of her. My dad on the other hand is pretty chill. He grew up smoking through the 60s, the hippy of all hippies. He hasn't changed much throughout the years as he met my mom, but he did stop smoking for the sake of their relationship. He told me he fell for her and was willing to make that compromise, "it was about time anyway. I wasn't getting any younger." Which to me kind of sounded like a bummer because I have always wanted to smoke with him. I think that would've been pretty cool. And, it would've made me feel better about my habit. But that's besides that point, the reason I smoke has nothing to do with my parents. It has to do with how I see the world when I am high. I will tell you, and keep this between us, but when I get high everything about this world gets better. Literally everything! My senses heighten. My perspective widens. I automatically become more understanding of myself and others. And it's not that I am blessed with wisdom but I guess it's something about the way it affects me, that makes me relax and take time to understand each and every situation around me. I have learned through friends and stories here and there, that not everyone has the same experience. Some people get super paranoid, to the point that they would never try to smoke again. Others get very depressed and get super low, most of the time revisiting past failures and mistakes or predicting negative outcomes about their life. And to me, at least from what I have experienced, I can't understand how the same plant can affect people so differently. I have been fortunate to see life as an awesome pleasure. An opportunity to discover the beauty that lies all around me, that sometimes through stress and anxiety, I don't get to experience and relish. But when I am high, everything slows down. It feels like I am dancing around in a magical world as a kid, once again. I giggle about everything around me. Everything is funny and food tastes amazing. And I can't convince myself that, that's not meant to be experienced. I mean, how can a moment so pure and genuine be taken away by the mere thought of addiction? Why would someone take that away from me just because they don't understand? Who are they to say that I am addicted? What if I walked around all day calling coffee drinkers, addicts? Is that fair? I don't think so. I think it's all about perspective at the end of the day. If you want have an opinion on something, please inform yourself with actual experience and remember that everyone is different and has different experiences in life. That's all. Love
Nov 18 2018


She is very confident. Down right her own lady, and her own boss. In the way she commands a room. The ways she walks. The way she dresses. The way she hustles. The way she looks forward to life with those eyes of her's that continually flicker with hope and courage. I admire her a lot. I have looked up to her for a while now, and every time, every fucking time she reminds me of the person I aspire to be. Sometimes, I wonder where she finds the strength. Even more amazing is the self control she exhibits. If it was me, I mean who knows but, I feel like I would have given up by now. She has lost a great deal through out the years, family, health, and a bit of confidence. Yet, she remains a force to be reckoned with. Of course she has her moments. She cries. she gets angry. She gets disappointed. She screams, loud enough to not hear her own self. But in the moments that count, she is composed. Enough experience has taught her to be professional. And that is amazing. It's a great example to set for those of us who are still learning and trying to navigate life. She is no longer a rookie and the rookie mistakes I make are no big deal to her. She always gives me the right advice, at the right time. It feels right, to have that kind of support and dependable person to turn to. I'm glad to have her in my life and I can't wait to do big things with her.
Nov 17 2018


“Solitude is dangerous. It’s very addictive. It becomes a habit after you realize how peaceful and calm it is. It’s like you don’t want to deal with people anymore because they drain your energy” - Jim Carrey. I read this passage today on instagram and it spoke volumes. I have always that it was odd. The fact that I would frequently crave to be alone. And yet I would also describe myself as a social butterfly. I like people. But I like me better. I don't know if this is a selfish perspective but I can't imagine always being in the presence of someone. I don't know, I feel like I wouldn't get to know myself. I wouldn't be give me a chance to be me. I wouldn't get a chance to discover me. When I am by myself, with some hot tea, and some calming music, I feel alive. I feel the most free. Sometimes this happens before I go to sleep at night. And sometimes this happens during the day especially if I intentionally carve out time for myself. I can't really the describe the high that I get out of these moments. I laugh. I dance. I scream. I fight. I do everything you can imagine. All with me. It's as if the more I spend time by myself, the more I start connecting to an alter ego. I think that's the official definition but I think the term 'alter ego' has too much of a negative connotation. My alter ego is my best friend. My alter ego understands me the most. He is my therapist. He is my defender. He is my coach. He is also my hype man. Think about that, imagine having an internal hype man who wake you up every morning only to fire you up about you! He only has positive things to share. He only cares about your well being. And he is the first line of defense towards the difficulties of life. He is also wise enough to provide comfort wisdom. He observes, quietly and from a distance, but his reach is not far enough for me to feel detached. He is always watching. And I always feel it. And full circle, I come back to say that everyone must have someone like him, right? I think everyone has that person inside them that they feel the closest to. And sometimes, maybe that voice has been suppressed. It's okay, although I don't think it's a good idea for that voice to die without being heard. No need to lie no more.
Oct 29 2018


The last couple of months, I have continually told myself that I don’t need to be strong, assertive, aggressive, or manipulative, to live an adventurous life. I only need courage. Only courage.
Oct 24 2018


An ultra-marathon is by definition, a race greater than a regular marathon, which is 26.2 miles. And lately, I have been on a binge watching a lot of documentaries on running, particularly those focused on the psyche that goes behind running that many miles. What has even intrigued me the most is the athletes who dare to run 50, 100, 200 miles. I didn't even know that was possible before I ventured into this world via youtube. A related video after another related video, I was so fascinated with the idea of running that long. How would it feel? Is my body equipped to handle that kind of stress? The answer remains unknown until I give myself a chance to try. And so I am declaring, to eventually put an ultra-marathon on the books. It's officially on my bucket list. I will report back when I have made some strides and milestones along the way. My current plan: 5k, 10k, half marathon, full marathon, 30, 40, 50, 70, 100 miles. I'm to scared to write down a number bigger than 100, but maybe my confidence will have gone up to handle that idea down the road. Until then, go and grow.
Oct 22 2018


I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I embrace fear with courage. I do.
Oct 19 2018


Did you know that you are a composition of mistakes? Did you also know that, that’s okay? How about the fact that you are not perfect? Do you feel perfect? Since when have you been feeling this way? Pretending to be perfect. Pretending to be right all the time? Pretending that you are only good? Pretending that you haven’t lied before? Pretending that you haven’t had fascinations? Pretending to laugh off the awkward silences? Are you a pretender? How long have I not known? Why do I feel out of the loop? Does everyone else know? Fuck, when did it start? How long have I been away? In a coma, really? This whole time? How do I know I’m not dreaming? Have faith? Really? Has that worked before or something? Doesn’t that sound cult-ish? Am I really the only one? Sigh, well shit.
Oct 19 2018


If you don't believe it, you don't deserve it. No one has the seen the mind, that's why a lot of people have difficulty picturing their mind being programmed. Whatever I want in my life, I can program my mind to position me to have it. The mind receives an input (senses), it then creates thought picture. The picture is stored in the subconscious mind. The stronger the size of the image, the faster it is expressed by you physical body. #SeekGreaterAwarness.
Oct 18 2018


I was running a track meet for the 1600m (1 mile) and was at the moment in second place. I was in my zone and felt like no one could stop me. I was so focused that I didn't know what lap I was on. With the roaring of the huge crowd, I couldn't hear the ringing of the bell to initiate that it's the final lap. I didn't have a good kick (sprint at the last 100m) at the time so tried my best to keep up with the first place runner. As he passed what was the finishing line, he started slowing down and eventually came to a stop. Thinking that he stopped cause he got injured, I felt joyful thinking I was now in first place and it gave me the extra motivation to keep running and finish the race strong. As I crossed the finishing line, my teammates starter laughing. Little did I know that I ran an extra lap and my teammates then congratulated me for holding the world record for 1800m.
Oct 16 2018


About 2 weeks ago, I drove to a gas station and right when I got out, this homeless man approached me and said "Aye youngin, let me wash your windows for some changed?" I looked at him consfused and started laughing. I looked back and forth and said, "but its raining today tho fam." He replied, "aight let me hold a dolla then." I gave him some change and we both smiled as he walked off and went about his day.
Oct 13 2018


I love to lose control in the spirit of every moment. I like to allow my body to do its thang. I want my thoughts to rattle around for a time but eventually come to a slow stop. That moment when, all of a sudden, I feel a rush of dopamine and a vibe of the most high. That’s when I am listening to my music. The moment when my body starts to vibrate to the vibe of the song, whether chill or exciting. Right there, that moment, I want to capture that moment everyday.
Oct 12 2018


I apologize for always being jealous I apologize for not being there for you sometimes I apologize for not letting you in I apologize for holding my emotions inside and away from you I apologize for keeping you a secret I apologize for hiding you I apologize for not letting you be you I apologize that your ex fucked your mind up I apologize for letting it go when you first lied to me I apologize for letting things slide, because I was understanding I apologize for being TOO understanding I apologize for for the puddles of tears I left on clothing and bedsheets and car seats I apologize, I really do I apologize for everything it seems.. So when do you start apologizing ?
Oct 11 2018


I always thought that the point of life was to continually find ways to make it easier and more comfortable. I thought there would one day be a time when there is no struggle, difficulty or pain. For some reason I feel like I am not the only person who thinks this way, or has this expectation from life. I left school two years ago and I wondered into the "real" world. You know the one where you have to be independent: get a job, do your own laundry, become responsible with your bills, and etc. People call it real life for a reason and I would only come to understand what that means soon enough. I started to realize that I am not as aware about my life as I thought I was. I started to realize how wrong and how often I was. I started to realize that I was so similar to many people that I had considered different from me. The idea of uniqueness sort of started to die away as I started to see the same struggles I had in others. I started to slow down. I started to relax. I started to be patient with others. I started to see the bigger picture. I started to watch movies. I started to read books. I started to lay down by the lake. I started to see reality a bit more and fought myself a bit less, does that make sense? I really hope it does and I hope there is someone out there who can relate. I NOW believe that accepting the good and the bad about life is the best way to actively and wholeheartedly indulge in it. It's a life where there are no left hooks or uppercuts. It's a life where the yin and yang coexist to create a master piece that is not bland. Rather it's rich of contradictions and thought processes. It's a life that is interesting. It's a life that no longer brings conformity. It's a life that allows you to jump around from lane to lane. A life worth living. Cheers :)
Apr 25 2017


I'd always heard people older than me saying those words, and I always thought I understood them. Life is weird. Of course it is, we're nothing more than tiny flecks of skin on an otherwise incredible and majestic spinning orb travelling through space at speeds that should wipe everything off of its surface, what isn't weird about that? On a smaller scale, weird things happen all the time. Anything from a bus being late to a relative or loved one dying. I understood these things, and I thought I understood what the weirdness everyone was talking about really was. Oh, how wrong I was. It's funny how one little thing can change your entire perspective on your own existence. For me, as corny as it sounds, it was meeting a girl. I had been reluctantly dragged out to a dance club (and later found out that was the case for her, as well: dragged out reluctantly). I walked in, and among all of the craziness and the fog machines, and the bright lights, as soon as I turned the corner to the dance floor, I saw nothing but her. She had everything. She was everything. I'm not going to say your name on here for obvious reasons, but A (yes, you, A.), I wish you could've been there, man. This is when you were heavily focused and basically gone from my life, but if you had seen the look I had on my face, you would've known right away that suddenly a whole new facet of life had started making sense for me. Sure, she was hot, she was beautiful, she was sexy. But she was so much more, too, and my one regret about that night is that you weren't there for me to put my arm around and say "see that girl right there? Yeah, that one. That's what I want. On a big level, that's what I want." That one moment made me realize how weird life really is, and it put into focus everything else that fell into that category of coincidental cosmic weirdness. That girl and I hung out two days later and we ended up staying out in San Francisco until 3 am just talking. She asked what time it was and both of us were shocked to see that it was after midnight, let alone 3 hours later. This isn't all I came here to say, though. A, I really really hope you're reading this. I know I told you I was mad at you for choosing the path that you chose, and I know it's better now, but I figured that this would be the best place to REALLY get those feelings out. I was so mad you weren't there. I thought about the way you had chosen to live your life and limit yourself, and it made me so frustrated that I wanted to cry. You draw people to you with your energy and your kindness and your warmth, but all of that suddenly turned into this artificial false-maturity that manifested itself in a cold, composed way. You lost yourself. Your friends lost you. It didn't affect other people like it affected me, though. They weren't your brother like I was. I remember having conversations with D about it, but you know how he is. He's always saying this and that and he's more focused on his own self and his own image and success than anything else. Hell, I even talked to my mom about it. The people that knew you and really cared about you couldn't understand why you had chosen to throw away so much of yourself for something that wasn't willing to return the favor. You thought you were an employee, but you were nothing more than a customer. I hope that's changed now, I really do. When I saw you like that, though - cold and too calm, as though you were telling yourself "this is how an adult should act" - I would remember those nights up on Indian Rock, or at that same club in San Francisco, or at the hookah lounge literally dancing on the floor, or just in one of our cars, talking and thinking about life and getting high to some great music. Those memories are what made seeing you like that so painful for me. All of a sudden, with no warning, it felt like that was it. Those would be the memories. The friendship that I cherished for so long had turned into nothing but something to look back on. Dodging behind trees because we were pretending that the cars passing by were searching for us. Throwing our arms behind us while we ran so that we could feel like Naruto. That was gone. The kid in you had grown into a tired old man, with only two settings: work, and "self-improvement". I want to say right now that I thought that all of that was bullshit. The process that you viewed as you improving yourself, everyone else saw as you losing yourself. You wanted to grow up. You wanted to get rich. You wanted to be better. Who doesn't? As dumb as this sounds, you were already pretty perfect in my eyes. You were somebody who I aspired to be. I wanted to grab you by the shoulders and shake you until you got whiplash to get it through your head that life is a process and if we rush it, then it just rushes by. Consider this yet another plea. The last thing I'll ask of you is that you step back and look at your life, and look at what and who is willing to give back as much as they get from you. I say this, because the last time I saw you, I think deep down you understood this and the way you were combating it was by giving less and less of yourself to the things and people around you. And that killed me. You. A. The dude who always gave 300% to everything he did. The only person I know who could be so focused on school while staying such a fun and crazy guy. If you tell me that you've realized the faults in your ways, I'm going to believe you, but if you mean it you have to show it too. It's up to you to make sure that those aren't empty words, not me. Show me that you're still my hawei. I know you're busy - and so am I - so I'm not asking for much. Let's make sure that our friendship isn't just memories in the past. Let's make a lot more. Like I said. Life is weird. Let's live it. Peace, love you, fuck you.
Oct 06 2016


Its a story like none other. Its very crazy least to say. How could I have ended up in such a weird position. Thoughts like that agonize me more, and do more harm than good to my little down soul. The story begins with interest. This girl was very different. I mean really different. That made me curious and attracted me to her even more. I didn't like her at first. She was just a cool person to know. A person I would reach out too occasionally. But my curiosity drove me close to her, and wanted to know so much about her. We went from seeing each other sometimes, to having to see each other everyday(It was on a summer.) We would text each other everyday, multiple times; sometimes for some petty reasons, but I loved it. She told me enough about her, and I appreciated it. I felt honored that she was willing to open up about her struggles. Knowing her issues didnt push me away, infact I found myself wanting to be with her, help her, sacrifice my selfish self for her. It's not like we were a thing, or anything like that. I still dont know how to explain it. All of a sudden I felt the most responsible for her wellbeing. I was very concerned about her, I wanted her to be happy, and pursue life with zeal, excitement and passion. I wanted to be her Jesus, per say. At first it was just me being caring, and offering my help to a dear friend, or closest friend at that time. It was all a bizarre friendship. Little did I know that I started catching feelings. This thing called Love got to me. Its beautiful and everything, but I had got to this point after years of ducking and dodging commitments. I always thought I wasn't ready for it yet. But this time, it wasn't voluntary. I didnt have a say on it. It came out of no where, and it was once again beautiful. I couldn't stop thinking about her, I couldnt keep my phone away. Even during work meetings, I would text her, Just to check on her. I would be looking for ward to my breaktimes like nothing before, not because work was tiring, but because I would get the chance to call her, and hear her voice. Man everytime I talked to her it was magical, it was almost like a different reality for me. It was soothing. Her voice was calming, her little jokes(ohhhhmaaagawwwd lol). Her pointless laughter. It was just all marvelous. I would stay up all night sometimes so I could talk to her. She automatically became the person I would reach out too, when I was facing some tough issues. Even if at times she wouldn't be able to understand them, but I told her anyways. Atleast telling her felt so good to me. Knowing that there was somebody willing to share my plight was assuring to me. The beautiful part of the story ends here. I ...
May 26 2016


I will tell you the story of Girl who fell in love with Boy. This was 5 years ago. Girl and Boy are no longer together. After 5 years in the relationship, Girl decided to end it. Girl still misses him. Does Boy miss her? Who knows.. What is love? Stop. Think. Answer me. Everyone seems to have an idea of what it is, what it is suppose to feel like and how incredible and horrible it can be. Seriously, what is love? What causes it? How is it that you become so infatuated with another human being, that that person actually causes you mental and physical reactions. L-O-V-E is nothing and everything at once. But it doesn't matter. Because it is not continuous or permanent. L-O-V-E is not perfect and it is painful, frustrating, exhausting, and amazing. See, even though we know how painful love can be, somehow we seek it regardless. Love is not continuous. Love is strange. It changes you, it makes you see things that are not there and it makes you do things that make you question yourself. Love is amazing. Love teaches you another dimension of yourself and about another human being. It will make you hate yourself and cherish yourself. If you are lucky, it will punish you for not loving YOURSELF enough. Above all, love yourself. For if you don't love yourself, how can you love someone? You can, but it will become toxic. Trust me. It was in the middle of the semester, she was sitting on the hard, rubby blue tartar track field. It was P.E.class. Great. Girl hated her P.E. teacher: Only because she was sure the P.E. teacher hated her. He walked over to where the class was sitting. He was gorgeous of course. In her mind. He looked shy but confident in himself. She knew that she would love him. But she also believed that she would never talk to him, or that he would even notice her. Her friends soon began to talk about him: FRIENDS: "OMG he is so cute.!" Girl: "Oh, come on. Stop exaggerating. I've seen better. " She rolled her eyes, and decided that she would offer him no attention or interest. She would never reveal to anyone she liked him or had thoughts about his lips. He was an athlete, that was obvious. So was she. Awesome. Another thing she could begin thinking about. A girl she sort of talked to introduced him to her as "her" friend. **Well that was fast...he made friends quick** She thought to herself. Girl: "Hello." Boy:"Hey." Anyways, so she did. She introduced herself to him. I mean, no big deal. They ran together, began talking. She told him she should run with her after school. That she was in the cross country team. He agreed. And so that started it all. He began staying with her after school, he began to open up and he smiled at her. She smiled back, but acted tough and uninterested. She liked him. That sucked. Because she never thought he would want her. On a weekend, after a run, they were sitting on a bench. She felt the sunny warmth on her face. The light seemed to always hit his face perfectly. Great. They horsed around, and teased each other. He teased her to kiss him. So she did. Just like that. She kissed him and he kissed her. Nonstop. For what seemed forever. They became girl friend and boy friend and so a journey began. The relationship was toxic for her, even though she fell in love with him. He had a dark interior: full of pain and hatred towards the world. He was hurt. He went through things that no child should have to. That no teenager should have to deal with. She was there for him. But he didn't allow her in easy. The relationship was great at times. Full of experiences. Happy beach moments. First make out session. Funny falls. Funny jokes. She loved that about him. Ups and downs. Fun days. Sex. Fights and good talks. Clear moments. Tears. All the good stuff that came with a relationship. She guessed. However, the relationship was not stable. He didn't trust her at times and she felt lonely with him. She felt that he didn't love her as much as she did. She was too independent for him. She cherished life to much and she was too optimistic for him. He called himself a realist. She called herself an optimist. He said it made no sense, to live in a fantasy world called Optimism. She felt judged by him. She knew that he loved her, but she felt as if she was alone. She stayed however, because the love that she had for him, the comfort she wanted to provide him and the care was too much. She wanted to be there for him. She wanted to make him happy. Many times he hurt her with words. Many times she brushed it off. Many times her took her for granted and many times she told herself, he would change. It was not his fault she would say. And it wasn't. She ended up holding back for him. To please him. She soon isolated herself, she tried to changed. For him. She wanted him to be happy. She wanted him to love her. The weird thing was, it seemed that he would always remind her, through comments, actions, jokes, insider remarks, and indirect comments, that he did not need her. That hurt her the most. It was his way for guarding himself. True test came when it was time for college. She was accepted to all the colleges he got into. But he wasn't. She decided to go for the school he didn't get in too because it was the best option for her educational purposes. He did not approve. He did not understand. She thought he hated her for it, in that split second she told him she would choose that school. He said he would be understanding. She believed him. Almost. She soon realized that he didn't trust her. He did not comprehend the love that she had for him. How could he not see it? Stupid Boy. Stupid Girl. She assured him that things would not change, that they would see each other. He joked and said, sure. She was optimistic and promised to send pictures,etc. He said no. That that was silly. She smiled and told him that things would not change. That her love for him was sincere. He smiled back and kissed her. She was happy in her embrace. How silly. On the day of the graduation, she was Salutatorian. She was excited and so proud of herself. She felt him so distant. She was scared to lose him. But she told herself: "Education Above ALL." She told herself that with or without him, she was going forward. The day of the graduation, he came to her. Hugged her. And walked away. The entire day she was ignored by him. Silly boy. So naive. She messaged him after the ceremony, explaining she did not understand. But that she would let him go. That she would not ask for him to be there. He responded with: "I'm sorry, I just was hurt." Again, she brushed it off. She decided to try it with him. As college went on, he showed signs of optimism and she was incredibly happy for it. But that was short lived. He became distant and kept conversations short. Was this it? Was she going to lose him? One morning, she got up. Stressed about school, about life, about everything. Being at a university was no easy task. Especially since she never even imagine herself at one before. She was so determined to do well. But found herself so overwhelmed at times that she felt as if she would be swallowed by life. If only he could be there for her. That same morning, she was having a conversation with him. Reassuring him that she was happy to have him. Then he exploded. He was truthful. At least. He called her selfish. That all she wanted was prestige. That she didn't care enough to attend his university choice. He was hurt that she chose her school over his. How could he be so selfish? To not understand her love for him. To not understand what her focus in life was. She ended the relationship. Several days later, she returned. Yeah I know. Stupid girl. She was not the same with him however. Because now she was guarded. How could the person she has loved unconditionally not understand? How could he judge her for choosing the best education option for herself. Especially after her undocumented status? Life went on. But she was not happy. She held on because she loved him. But she felt alone. She felt like she was losing herself in the process. She felt like she was choosing him over herself. That weighed down on her. She stayed and stayed. Loving him. She did not know how to end it. Her whole teenage life was with him. He was part of her. She couldn't imagine herself without him being there. Until the last visit he made to her. She felt something had changed. The spark was no longer there, whispering her: "Stay." She felt empty. Her skin didn't call his, her heart didn't seem to jump, despite her unhappiness. That was when she knew. She had to... let go. Her palms were sweaty one afternoon. The day she chose to cut it. To end it. She spent an entire hour, thinking it over. Her mind was clear, but her heart was so confused and scared. She knew that she had to. She wanted to be happy. She wanted to be able to let go of something that was not good for her. Click. She wiped the tears. It was over. They talked for what seemed forever. He was asking her what he could do to changed how she felt. She said: Nothing. He cried. She cried. Everything seemed still. She felt a huge weight lifted off of her. She was free. At first, it was very difficult for her. She missed him. She felt lonely. Time passed, and it has gotten better. And now she is sharing her story. Her side of it. She has learned so much about herself. She is not the same girl. She is happy now. People asked her: How can you say you were in love, but broke up with him? Simple answer Girl: " I was not happy." Being in love with someone does not make them the right one.
May 25 2016


If only they knew she was breaking, just faking a smile. If they did, would it change their minds? Would they stop calling her names? If only they knew what hid under her long sleeves, in her room. If they did, maybe they'd treat her better. Maybe they would show her some respect. She slipped once in the middle of recovery, and everyone turned their backs. Her friends. Her family. Her boyfriend. Even she turned on herself. But they didn't know that did they? Because they had left her. They had left me. I'm her.
May 23 2016


There once was a town of smelly, old folk. There were bathrooms with showers but no concept of soap. One day a traveller passed by and said, "Oh, how it stinks, I smell sweaty armpits, I smell sweaty feet!" "Get out of our town!" replied the townspeople, "Keep going, get get before we do something illegal!" Off the traveller went into the woods, followed by a little boy just as far as he could. The little boy got tired and took a rest. He looked to his right and he looked to his left. Low and behold there was a small lake., a little old boat, it must have been fate. Into the boat, the little boy went, he rowed and he rowed he worked up a sweat. Strange square bars appeared at his feet, the boy picked one up and it smelled kind of sweet. He licked and regretted, oh boy is it true. He jumped in the lake what else could he do? He rubbed and scrubbed the bar all over. He swam and swam and got slower and slower. Back in the boat, he headed toward the shore. To share with his town, oh did they have a surprise in store. The little boy strutted yes indeed, knowing they hadn't smelled anything as sweet. The townspeople asked ,"Oh, little boy how can we be like you? Smell so sweet and walk so proudly, too?" The little boy handed each person a bar"It's easy it's easy, you smelly old folk. Get in the shower and wash with soap."
May 22 2016


I went to a middle school that had a specially denoted focus on "dancing." There were a few kids in the school who appreciated being forced to not only take dance classes, but participate in an end of year dance recital in which the disparate dance classes united their efforts onstage for a carnival of disinterest and un-involvement, but for most of us insecure children it was shitty. I found myself constantly trying in dance classes because I was incapable of lazily executing what I couldn't help but regard as real and present challenges. long-story short there was this girl I liked, and she and the rest of the girls who associated with the people I was around sort of orbited this one guy, who was impressive to them. Lets call him dave Dave was aware of his stature amongst the rag-tag crew of "disappeared after middle-school" kids and really relished it. As the only person who didn't recognize his de-facto status (as a youth I resisted all things "de-facto." I wanted concrete things to believe in. After realizing as a young adult that all the powerful forces in our world occupy "de-facto" positions I abandoned my war.), Dave and I were bitter friends at best. The dance ended, I was sitting alone on a swing in the playground preparing a solo walk home. This may or may not have been the same night that a kid shook up a beer and threw it at me on the same swing, I do not recall. The man I am now would have snuffed him or gotten beat up trying. I wish I could return to my middle school in spirit and imbibe my former self with the vigor, wisdom and self-respect I have since gained. A girl ran up to me, not the one I liked but her friend, looking churlish and girly. She told me really, actually, that I was her favorite dancer from our tap class's number, not Dave. she followed it up with "But please don't tell Dave." I look back on this and figure that I couldn't have ever fit in middle school. Now I see that the girl had a severe lack of moral fiber but back then I attributed it to Dave being a winner and myself being a loser. I think that was a pretty good appraisal but I lacked the scope of understanding to realize if Dave was better at my game than I was, I needed a new game.
May 16 2016


Heh, such a generic title, but I couldn't think of anything better to name this. Alright, let's start from the begginning, she and I were friends, best friends, in fact, she was probably the only person I considered an actual 'friend' in my entire, miserable life, and I blew that away, I destroyed that, by letting my selfishness take over, "Why?" You may ask, well, I'll tell you how it happened. One day, this girl, my friend, I won't say her username or actual name for privacy purposes, so let's just call her 'May' for now, sent me a private message in our main meeting site, she was freaking out, telling me that one of our (female) friends just confessed to her, the main problem is, both of us are straight, our friend, let's call her 'June', is an asexual biromantic, none of us have a problem with that, in fact, we support it, however, May didn't return her feelings. And because she's too goddamned nice to just reject her on the spot, she came running to me, which I really hope she hadn't, since that's what destroyed our friendship, we chatted for a while, I gave her advice, we RolePlayed for another while, and then we both left the chat, some time later, June sent me a private message, telling me that she confessed to May, I pretended to not know anything, however, she told me to tell May that she accepted her feelings as a friend, and just confessed to get it off her chest, I said that I would, but my stupid self forgot to, or maybe I just subconsciously didn't want to for whatever reason, and once I realized, it was too late, everything went downwards after that. You see, a day or so after that, May asked me to chat with her, and we did, not soon after we started, she told me that, instead of rejecting June, she asked her out. I guess something in me just... exploded after that, I abruptly left, with a simple message saying I was done, and then I sent her a PM with a massive text wall of a rant insulting her, calling her fake, horrible things like that, I wish that I hadn't been so stupid and blind in rage, at the final paragraph I sent her an ultimatum, either she broke up with June, and we stayed "friends", or she kept being someone who "she wasn't" and I left for good, I sent the note. We didn't talk for a few days after that, deeply regretting what I did, I refused to log back in, gathering enough courage, I eventually did, and both May and June sent me PMs, June's message said that she broke up with May, I'm not sure if she actually knew what I did, but I guess it doesn't matter now, May's message was what broke our friendship, the dreaded words, "We need to talk.", so we exchanged a few PMs kinda sorting things out, we somewhat patched our friendship, all was supposedly forgiven, but as of these last few weeks, she's refused to talk to me, maybe she's sick or busy with exams, but one thing's for sure, I don't think we can be true friends again. So, after all, I just want to say, to both June and May, I'm sorry.
May 06 2016


Sorry. I strongly dislike that word. I say it too damn much. I say it because it’s easy. It’s somewhat the truth. I’m sorry for bumping you. I’m sorry for standing there. I’m sorry for not being good enough. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry I don’t know how to express myself. I don’t know how to make it better all I know is that it hurt. I opened up just wanting you to be there. All I wanted was a hug. I didn’t want you to fix it. I didn’t want insight on the situation. I don’t want you to be my mentor. I want you to be my partner. I understand that you wanted to help, that you didn’t want to see me hurting anymore, that you want me to do better. That wasn’t the right time. We weren’t in a good place already. I already felt like I wasn’t good enough. I was already on my case for the mistakes I have been making and did not ask to hear that from you, too. It felt like getting shot while I was down. I know you didn’t mean it that way but I was way way down. Nevertheless, I should not have reacted that way. Next time, I’ll pause and process what you said, what you’re trying to say, and why you’re saying it. I’ll try not to let my emotions cloud my judgment. Please ask or give me warning that way I can be prepared or let you know that it’s not a good time. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for pushing you away.
May 06 2016


I've always been scared of saying "I Love You", it makes me so uncomfortable and awkward. I'm not afraid of love, I'm really not. I believe love is the best gift God ever gave us. I'm truly afraid of people leaving me. I felt so abandoned by my biological parents, thinking that they never wanted me. I know that's far from the truth, but I can't help but feel that way. "Space is just a word made up by someone who's afraid of getting too close". I think these lyrics describe me perfectly. I'm truly afraid of closeness. I'm afraid of people getting too close to me, either physically or emotionally. Then I'm scared that when they are close to me and I'm in way too deep, that they'll leave me heartbroken, alone. I sometimes like being alone, no awkwardness, no judgments, just me, myself, and I. I've always felt alone. Sometimes I like that feeling and sometimes I hate it. I've also always been very shy because I'm scared of people judging me. I care what people think and I know that makes me weak. I tell people I'm strong, I smile, laugh, pretend to be happy, but, in reality, I'm so weak, depressed, and feel shitty all the time. I cry too much and that makes me weak. I'm far from strong. I don't want people to think that I'm not okay because I don't want them to worry about me. Why worry about something that doesn't matter? I've never cared much about myself, and I know that's awful, but in all honestly, it's the truth. I've always been extremely selfless, wanting to make sure that everyone else's needs are taken care of before mine are. I make sure my friends and family are healthy, happy, and safe way before myself. I'm always going to be that one person that people can go to for money, food, love, comforting, anything really. I want everyone else to be happy before me, because they are way more important that me. But then I know that people will take advantage of me, but, I let them. I let them use me, hurt me, tear me down into small bits, because in the end when they need me, I will still be there to love them, to care for them. The whole truth is that.... I just want someone to love me and make me feel like I'm not totally worthless............
May 04 2016


Most nights end with 10-15 minutes of thought on my day. I have no idea where I came up with the idea that I need to look back to see forward. I can remember countless what if thoughts, "if I said this she wouldve liked me", "if I spent another hour studying I wouldve got an A," "if I whooped his ass everything would be cool" or my personal favorite "if I showered today I wouldve actually said whats up to the people walking by me" Why would any of these things effect my tomorrow? I just let them by thinking about it. Until recently I didnt realized how negative it can be not to. Im talking about the adverse medical effects of regret. Regret in its simpliest definition is you thinking about all the things you could've done. Whats the point? Many argue that the past doesn't exist. Who are we not to agree when I cant even physically touch the past. In a lot of ways its about faith. Faith reminds us that despite what happened everything will be okay tomorrow. If can remember this fact then regret and negativity do not have an opportunity to manifest. So change the prespective to give yourself a fighting chance at a better narrative. Why dwell at night reflecting on past mistakes when you can celebrate the possibilities of tomorrow. Our thinking can be directly connected to the experiences that we have. In a lot of ways the past is suppose to help us learn and grow, but how can you learn anything without the experience. What Im getting at is your past mistakes do not define you because you can start over any time. We are forever young when we realize this. We are fortunate enough to have the ability to learn from experience so please go to the world and do not be afraid because death is guaranteed. Have your actions and your words continue to reflect the lack of fear that you have over the future. Once we release this anxiety we can truly appreciate every moment.
May 04 2016


That shit always happens when I used to see you. I would see you. It felt like the world stops. You ignore me. I try to ignore you.... I fail.. I tell myself "PLEASE girl.. DONT look back at him" and like clockwork... 1... 2...3... And I catch a look back. At you. Walking away from me. From experience I know walking away is easy for you. Me on the other hand....  I try my hardest to not miss you, to not feel that ache whenever I would see you. It hurts when you choose not to acknowledge me and for me to pretend like I don’t see you. The world already does that to us, why are we doing that to each other? But I guess it's easier for you that way.... But it makes me wonder, did you ever TRULY care about me? Do you even know how to truly love and care for another person? Has life been that mean to you? I have been playing back the countless nights we spent talking, the heart to hearts where most of the time we were talking about you... The soul sessions where I poured in to you... where I uplifted you.... from the place in my heart where my childhood pains exists and manifests… the place in my being where I started falling for you… where we allowed each other to be seen…The place where I somehow forgot about myself... And so did you…Or at least it felt like it. I guess that became the nature of our relationship because for one, I allowed you to treat me that way but I think honestly it was also because that was the way I was treating myself. The love, yes LOVE and care I manifested with you was real and genuine to me, but was it ever the same for you? Did you ever really care? Yet another question I guess I'll never get an answer to… but in my heart, I would like to believe you did… Maybe I had too much faith in you. Maybe your capacity to love isn't the same as mine? ... The pain I feel in my spirit grows from the limbs of rejection, abandonment, longing... But that's all rooted in love. It's all about love.  When I think back to those talks of constant upliftment, ranting, dreaming, scheming and in my heart, loving... I always remember you saying at the very end of every conversation "oh, yeah and you too!" Only proving that I was the footnote to your very long page. I think (and I could be wrong) that part of our trouble was rooted in your guilt of not being able to care for me or be invested in me in the same way I was to you...  But of course according to you and your friends, it was all of my fault. Me and my love were to blame. I don't know...  One of our biggest struggles as friends was allowing each other to see the brokenness, humanness and fullness of the other. Yeah… it was a growing pain. Someone wise once said “courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.” Vulnerability. I know you have a good heart and that there are still things in your own life that you are working through, but I hope that you have begun doing some of the hard work of bettering yourself, for YOU and for no one else. That is when you will begin to tap into the greatest you that you can be (the you that you often times allowed me to see). Looking back, I can see where I was lacking too. My deep sadness that I felt everyday and carried with me everywhere I went like a moth to a flame. I didn’t know how to fully articulate what it meant to live with depression and anxiety, and I’m really sorry that it affected our relationship in the way that it did. I’m sorry that I couldn’t articulate how you could best support me… I would like to believe that you wanted too.. I had to believe your pained by our separation to. The last time I saw you many many nights ago near the creek we would always walk by…And you literally turned the other direction to avoid even looking at me or making eye contact... I have to believe that there was pain there.... And like me, I have to believe you were trying to heal… I truly am sorry I hurt you or triggered you...I hope you somehow you know that this wasn’t my intention but I do acknowledge the impact. I guess part of my unsettlement is that we will never be able to talk about what happened that night… I truly hope where ever you are now that you feel my love and that whatever feels you were going through both subconsciously and consciously, that you at some point managed to confront it with grace and kindness to yourself. This letter to you is more so for my closure (that you famously said you don’t care about). I hope wherever you are now that you feel the love and that you are finding your peace as well. Rest Easy.
May 01 2016


I've always been told that the ability to forgive and empathize is a positive virtue of people. Yet I find myself being taken advantage of. In my recent life I've been striving for an increased amount of self respect, but now I worry that I'll be lonelier than ever. Maybe I need to just build a new foundation for what I want. I find myself still attached to empty memories. I suppose its time to move on. And try my hardest for something different. Something that doesn't' make me feel less important, or undervalued. Something that will give me the inspiration to be the best person I can be. It's time for me to stop wasting my passion on the past.
Apr 29 2016


I don't think I will ever forget the day I saw them. On a camping trip in a tent there they were lines of cuts and healed scars across her arms. Sadness, anger, concern, fear, shock, were the emotions that washed over me then and is constantly still with me and I doubt they will ever leave. My smart, talented, and beautiful sister was/is in so much emotional pain, that she thinks physically harming herself was a way to cope. Once I saw them, I got her talking about the why, when, and how long of it and got her to show me all of her scars. I got her to promise me she won't do it again which I doubt we both believed based on some the causes anyway and she got me to agree to keep it between us as long as she contacts me whenever things get to be too much for her. It has been a little over two years since I found out and I have yet to tell a soul. I am torn between helping her and keeping her safe and not knowing how to do either of those things constantly. I am angry an entire family seems oblivious to her pain and the damage she is causing herself and at the fact that she is harming herself when we both know she knows better than that. I am angry at the fact that I understand what could cause enough pain to physically harm herself and her inability to find other ways to cope and my inability to watch her 24/7 and make sure she is safe, and happy.
Apr 29 2016


I am not defined by the color of my skin nor its tone or shade I am not defined by the texture of my hair nor its length or color I am not defined by the size and shape of my body nor the clearness of my skin Or Am I? In a country that only seems to see the physical and least important qualities of my humanity and portray them as flaws to conform me into their idea of beauty and perfection Well I REFUSE to be put in your tiny boxes created to make me feel small and dare YOU to tell me my value.
Apr 29 2016


It was a Monday afternoon in the early stages of the 2015 spring semester. It was a beautiful day outside and I, had myself some shorts and those heavy Tims on. I went to my early classes and found myself with a 4 hour gap until my next class. I idled around campus, looking for something to do to kill my boredom. And then it hit me that I had an intramural basketball game that same night. I looked over my wardrobe, hesitant to decide if I wanted to go and shoot around in the gym in preparation. The decision made itself and I found myself walking down the street towards my campus gymnasium. I showed the front desk my school ID and headed over to the basketball courts. Fortunately, there were people playing one on one and I asked if we could play a game of 21. They agreed and the playing started. Fast forward towards the end of the game, I had the ball. I had 19 points and I needed only a 2 pointer in order to seal the game. I finally got the ball back and it was time for the offensive. Both guys decided to play tight D because it could potentially end the game. The first guy steps up and picks me up at the three point line. I do a left to right cross over and get near the top of the free throw line for a sweet jump shot. To my surprise, the first guy caught up and got in front of me to contest the jump shot. By the time he arrived, I had myself about 12 inches above the floor. I took the shot, and it looked good. Meanwhile, my body was going down as gravity was doing it's thing. All of a sudden I felt my left foot landing on the shoes of the guy underneath me. The next thing that happened left me in excruciating pain. My ankle ended up severely sprained and the Tims only made things worse. The weight of my body led me to fall backwards. I tried to use my hands to land without too much impact but the pain of my left ankle overshadowed all logical reasoning. I fell eventually. I was on the ground and I was screaming every french word you can imagine. I was so, so upset. I was furious. I was so angry. I kept thinking to myself, "why the fuck was he under me?!!" I cried and I screamed with all my heart. I cried more and I screamed more. All I could think of was how I would never play basketball again! I could not let go of the possibility that this was my final time on the basketball court. I hated that image. I hated him so much in that moment. I felt bitter resentment toward him. I know it wasn't in the dude's intention but my ankle was done for. The gym got called and they dropped everything in front of me. Ice, injury kits, bandages, everything. None of it meant anything to me though. In that moment alone, I regretted everything. Deciding to wear Tims, Deciding to go the gym, Deciding to play basketball. I regretted each and every decision I had made that led up to that moment. I still feel anger writing this as I speak about how I imagined the consequences of my injury. Since then I have tried my best to forgive that man. To forgive him for an accident. But, it's been very hard. Very very hard. The pain that I feel to this day continues to remind me.
Apr 29 2016


A few years ago if you had asked me where I thought I would be right now, I would have said I would be graduating right about now and planning my next step and moving my life along. Instead I feel stuck unable to move and fighting to get through the day. I am the type of who needs order, consistency, and at the very least some type of direction and I used to have that but somewhere along the way I lost my footing and ended up on what seems a never ending landslide. Now I am learning and accepting that thing do not always go as planned and sometimes we all need to start rolling with punches, because as it is inevitable, in life there will be punches.
Apr 29 2016


1. I will go to the gym later 2. Salads are not food 3. One more episode 4. If I sleep early, I will wake up early and finish my studies/assignments 5. I will pay off my student loans and credit card loans in the next 3 years 6. I think that was an orgasm 7. My clothes must be shrinking cause I can't fit into anything! 8. The homeless/runaway hipster I just gave money to is going to use it to buy some food 9. My roommates are extremely busy people, that's why they haven't washed their dishes in the past 3 weeks. 10. I don't care. #thehonestseries
Apr 29 2016


It was 10th grade of high school. It was a moody year. It was a year of self identification. But more importantly, it was the year of experimentation. On one unusual, Friday evening of that year, school had ended for the day and it was time to go home. Going home for me required taking a bus, a train, and then another bus if it was still before 10 p.m. And so after school had ended, I found myself exiting the building to find my best friend sitting on the front porch. Per usual, we did our routinized handshake and starting walking towards the bus stop. We started talking about the excitement of the upcoming weekend and of our plans, if we had any. We were geeks. We were 10th graders who had no clue what cool meant. We talked about girls. We talked about our favorite english teacher whom we both had a crush on. And we somehow, I can't remember how, but we ended up talking about weed. Now, mind you at this point in my life, I had not tried drugs. My parents continuously drilled it in me that drugs were bad. They still do if you are curious. My friend on the other hand, had well over experimented with cannabis and was inquiring if I would like to try. "Wow, are you serious?" was my reaction. All of a sudden I imagined all the conversations I had with my parents and other people about the harmful effects of cannabis. It felt like a flash back, so fast and so clear. It was almost movie like. Then I took a while to recollect myself to give a more proper response. I said, "sure why not, what's the worst that can happen." We evade the bus, which by the way was on it's way. I still find it weird that the bus came right after I said yes. Moving forward, we started walking towards his house. This walk was a normal walk for him, but for me it was preparation. I felt like I was going to war, literally. So internally, I was equipping myself with affirmations, telling myself I could do it and come out alive. It's kind of hilarious to look back now but yeah, that happened. Eventually, we get to his place and find ourselves in the back yard. My friend had stored all his weed related material in the back, one of which was his beautifully decorated bong. We bring it out and we start placing the broken up weed on the bowl. He then lights the fire and declares, "today you will be reborn." He took the first hit, obviously and then came my turn. I inhaled, or so I thought I did but when I exhaled no air came out. Go figures, my first try had failed. The second turn came and I REALLY inhaled this time. And as a result, I found myself coughing for a solid hour, no kidding. After the second hit, I thought it would be a good idea to drink some water. My friend, an experienced smoker, suggests that we go to the liquor store and buy Hot Cheetos and lemonade. As a first timer, the suggestion was odd and timely uncalled for. In my head, I am thinking this guys is obsessed with Hot Cheetos and lemonade. But I come to find out after we grab the snacks, that food was delicious. It tasted heavenly. I mean the food I had eaten for as long as I can remember, had never tasted as good as it did in that moment. And then finally, I understood. Food + Weed = heaven.
Apr 29 2016


It was March 17th, year 2007. I met with those who had agreed to help me cross the border. I would pay a fortune and they would take me across the border from Eritrea to Sudan. There were specifically three men I can remember, one Eritrean and two Sudanese. The Sudanese dressed themselves in all white robes, black vests and what looked like scarfs that completely wrapped their faces, making it difficult for me to see their faces. In the moment, the Sudanese started explaining instruction in a language I could not understand. I constantly moved my head in the direction of the other Eritrean for translation. Unfortunately, the other Eritrean was as clueless as I was. He had no idea what they were telling us. Eventually the Sudanese realized that we both didn't understand. So they started with hand motions. "You go there, and you, you go there." Or at least that's how I interpreted it. The directions led to the both of us (2 Eritreans) laying on the back of a Suzuki pick up truck. It was night time and all our hopes of not getting caught were left in the brightness of the stars. The lights of the pick up were turned off to negate detection by border patrol. The engine started to roar and soon found ourselves bumping into each other as the car moved from direction to direction. In the moment, I thought of where the car was going. I tried, to the best of my ability, to feel the directions the car was taking. But I found myself confused and more anxious. I tried to engage in a conversation with my new friend, but he often found himself closing his eyes. I didn't want to bother him, so I too closed my eyes. Suddenly, I sensed bright lights that was not coming from above. I clinched my fist trying to compose my body from flying out of the truck. I became paranoid and thought someone was following us. To this day, I can't explain the lights I felt trailing us. I believe that we were followed for a short period of time but cannot explain how we were able to safely escape. Just glad that were safe.