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I have to be quiet because this might not make sense. The words I have are attempting a transgression to my spirit. Yet it is such a sweet transgression, it is actually necessary and vital. I bite my lip and I cannot keep this secret to myself anymore. I cannot hold this truth in any longer. It must come out dressed in my petty words; but it will make itself seen regardless.

The truth is that love prevails. It prevails when we let it. It prevails because the world is big enough, wide enough and thirsty enough for light. It prevails when the darkness has eaten itself and it’s inhabitants alive. Beneath the fear, a light travels through time and space to reach those who seek it, regardless how much money they make, regardless how they look and what language they speak. Light finds you because it pierces through every darkness as long as there is a surface willing to reflect it and spread it to the world. 

Love exists and bounces off from your reflective heart. So sit with that, look inside and beneath your torment. You will find that a joy you last experienced as a child still burns within you and is shamelessly requesting permission to fix you, help you out of that torment and simply make you happy again. Because really, what is this all about, if not drenching ourselves and one another in love every opportunity we get.

Full Moon 

I erase line after line, all my phrases seem vacant. I am trying to fake this. It’s not really working. I am trying to run yet my feet are heavy, they won’t move as fast as I hope they would. My breath is short and unforgiving. My mind refuses the track, it refuses the motion it demands that I stand still at this specific moment and just stop for a moment. Just stop. 

I have a million and five thoughts racing to the front lines, my blood freezes at the notions of some and boils for others. My mind demands that all this stops as well. No motion whatsoever, I must stop every transaction, transition and transformation taking place inside and outside of myself. Nothing will happen now, nothing must. 

Being still used to be so much easier that’s for sure, all it took was closing my eyes and sinking. Now I can’t stop.

I grab onto a tune that slows me down, one that forces the friction I have been avoiding. My scars begin to show again, indifference cannot be faked at this pace. I grab onto the night in hopes of shielding my cowardice, maybe the darkness would help make this pause less shameful; but it doesn’t. I am stripped and stranded because I need to stop and listen, to stop and look at everything. Maybe today is special, and maybe that is why I cannot move. 

Naked and foolish I rub my skin and peel off the beauty, I do not need this here. My hair falls to the ground beneath, and my nails grow long enough to claw through this fractured body. I must stop and see, my eyes water and my mind soars. I cannot move but I can see. 

I can see that my soul is aching, I can see that all this motion is sickening. It is mindless and senseless, it is excruciating and exhausting. 

I just stop, unprotected, frail and aimless. I am in awe of this crash. My mind is unclogged. My blood is cleansed. 

Maybe this is being free. 

If I were a man: 

If I were a man fewer people would wonder why I still am unmarried. If I were a man fewer people would feel perplexed by my decisions. 

I would be congratulated for my hard work and my serious attitude regarding my goals. My academic and professional achievements would matter and would have more value. I would not be met with questions on why I am eager to do more and become better, Because what else do I need besides good looks and a decent character? 

If I were a man, I would be patted on the back when I talk about calculated risks and taking firm mature steps. I wouldn’t be met with rolling eyes and nervous smiles. If I were a man talking about the importance of partnership not just a relationship, fewer people would be terrified that I’m going to end up alone. 

If I were a man in this society I probably will have to deal with very different challenges, that are equally discouraging. I will have to be rich by 25, and fully capable of picking up tabs at ridiculously expensive places. I will have to provide for a family of 4 and enjoy traveling with my inlaws. I will also be respected according to how well I score on all previously mentioned criteria. Not too exciting as well!

But then again, to most people the mystery continues, I’m a girl with nice hair and can look pretty in a dress, so what am I really waiting for? 

In a sick society, that force feeds trends and ideals, and utilizes peer pressure to manipulate serious life decisions of both young men and women, individuals are plagued with continuous repetition of idiotic mistakes that could be avoided. Figure out what you can do with the resources that you have to better yourself first, improve your surroundings second, and reproduce last. 

Gratitude Note 

A random set of events inspired me today and made me wonder,
are we really cursed or are we covertly blessed?

To my cognitive surprise: I am beyond blessed tonight.

First thing that comes to mind is the immense love surrounding me, and there he is pulling me ever closer to the truth. I am at peace with decisions made and roads less traveled. I am where I need to be pumping blood into a life I am bound to lead. 

I joke and flirt with words, and I skip over tunes of disbelief that life still envelopes me and every body that I love. This is complete and adequate beyond any repair. 

I write in a room I have grown in, and I fill a blankness I have become overly accustomed to. 

My love is big and brave. It is flexible and comfortable. My mind rests and tonight I am able and I am free. I put an end to a day that has witnessed more life than I may ever see. I send out fleets of words into your world and I close the blinds, binding myself to the dark further teaching myself how to truly see. 

Try Human

I press my palm on a dream and I turn the world off to hear its heartbeat. It is still alive tonight, as it was lifetimes ago. It doesn’t age and it doesn’t stop, it flows and extends its limbs as far as we want it to. It dances with our shadows and shelters our egos, until we gather enough courage to pick it up, dress it warm and elope with it.

I place my dream next to me every night, and I listen to it hum a melody as I plan our departure, our great adventure. I get light headed and my plans grow too loud for a night in love with silence, so i pull the covers over our heads and i turn on a flashlight. We practice accents and personas, we imagine vast fields of green and northern lights over our heads. We trek volcanoes and we float in sky reflecting waters. Heartbeats and breaths grow deeper and softer, we sink lower into the wilderness of light within us, until we can no longer hear our own doubts and fears. We leap out of the night and into a surreal world.

I peek onto the lives of those surrounding me and I wish I could show them their own little dreams hiding beneath their voices and under their beds, with heartbeats as strong as drums but muffled with an unnecessary vicious reality. I watch my days pass and I fear that i could someday forget where my own dream resides, but i write to remind myself that mine exists in this space i have created as soon as i realized how powerful reality is. I saved my dream and I practiced reality to the best of my knowledge, and though i still fail sometimes, and though i lose myself often; I know where to find myself once and again.

I know that wonder strikes even the best of us, and that awe fills the heart of every human who allows it passage. I know that we are never really ready to let go, and that bloody knuckles and broken wrists are signs of strength to some. We have needs beyond our grasp, and we are human beyond our control. We live as though we are here for ever, as though we have nothing to lose. We live looking back, and looking forward. We tuck our dreams away for the good days when we can actually have time for them. Except may be we shouldn’t wait. Except maybe eloping right now is giving your self the best life you will ever know. Maybe all you need, right here and right now is to let go of doubt, fear and judgement, and wake to a life completely made for you.


Mist and Mystery 

I suddenly love this world of grey surrounding me. I suddenly do not fear the rapture, I am bordering fearlessness. I hear the music echoing from the depths within, my skin tightens and cracks, my hair catches a spark and it flares like weaves and waves of fire. My eyes grow wider and I see everything, I see everyone and I am everywhere. Time stops for me and I pounce forward, I run with it.

Mist and mystery collide into brilliance in a darkened world. In a faded space I find myself made up of fire and ice, I find myself in the fog becoming, simmering, aching, breaking and mending all at once. But in that smoke filled room I am alone. I am silent and I am in awe. There is only me in this grey area, and I am free to love and to be. I cannot fight the light and I refuse to give up on that stark darkness, because all I ever wanted was to exist in between, slowly, all at once and always.

Midnight Forest

Can fire be created in a fog? Can sparks be formed in the damp midnight air? When leaves are blackened by the night, are they really still green just because they ought to be? 

I have all sorts of questions I am dying to ask to somebody who like me is living in this midnight forest. I have all sorts of hopes I wish to explain, and sounds I wish to interpret. I have assumptions waiting for the light of day to either be confirmed or refuted. I just really want to know, but as soon as I close my eyes, I am alone again in my midnight forest treading on broken branches, bones chilled to the core, and noises of the night surround me. 

I take careful steps as I’ve really learned my way, what trails to step on and which not to. I breathe in damp cold air and I see the vacuum. It is everywhere and I am lost. I am lost in time, history and space. I am lost between night and day just wandering in the last speck of dark just before the break of dawn. 

I anticipate and I tread softly. I finally believe in something, that this too shall pass. That the dark will lend itself to the first speck of day and I will be there lost in the jungle but ready to burst in flame. And once I catch a light life will essentially begin. I will breathe in light and breathe out flame, I will bask in the color of red yellow and grey. I will witness the forest greens and I will light up the bluest skies; because I know lack of color and I know the midnight trail. 

Once I catch a speck of light, the night will sing my praise; that I once lived in its realms and painted the softest maze. It will bow and walk away graceful and free of pain. It will subside with a break of dawn and silently let me be. One mind, one heart and a fire in between. 


This brightness blinds my eyes, and all I can do is squint. All this light, for what? What is the purpose of it? So what if it contrasts the dark? Then what? 

I find myself wounded and withered, shivering at the edge of the pedestal. I have finally succumbed to reality, I let it win. I let it dry out the prayers and the wishes. I let reality collide with my days and they both swallowed me whole. 

Time runs and i scramble behind it, I leap at its tail and it elopes. I am always alert and it is always ahead. Time has skipped over my expectations and its basking in reality. 

I have lost touch with the person, the truth within. I am not very sure of the why’s, the whats and the how’s anymore. Cliches everywhere I look, hiding in every thought I have. I don’t know what’s mine anymore, where have I put all my secret hopes, desires and fears? Have I abandoned myself to join the masses? To become one of them? Another great day lived filled with facts and reality?

I am somewhere here in this, I must be lingering waiting to be found again. 


Truth recognizes us long before we recognize ourselves, same as the darkness recognizes the night. It wakes us up in the middle of the night and pins us to the walls we worked all day to put up. It is a devil that does not stop, it puts us in our place when we try to forget. 

Truth needs no music and no beat to come up, it is there with the silence and the night. We claw at our faces and at our souls we stop, because souls are untouchable, unachievable and do not belong to us. We end up with dirty feet and torn up faces, and our souls peer through, they dance and chant at the ruin at every break of dawn. We catch a glimpse of whom we could be, what we ought to become if only our souls weren’t so shy. But at every day break we forget and we start over, oblivious to the revelations of the night. 

We hide so well, but sometimes we are fearless. Sometimes we tell ourselves that our lives and our worlds are not actually on fire, and that we are alright. Not every night holds ruin, some nights truth wakes us up to remember and put down in words what we may soon forget. 

We are alright, and in the right shade of darkness we do not need light. 


There is a river of days that I cannot seem to tell apart. They flow and gain momentum and I am drenched. My skin is soaked in time and my body floats through. How does one control this? Should one even try? 

I hold my breath and I immerse myself completely into this cold river and I feel whole, I can finally feel as though I am part of it. But I am human and holding your breath is not a quality of an intelligent life loving being. So I reemerge gasping for air and losing myself again. 

The feeling of loss is painful. It is excruciating knowing that you can’t go back, not even a single second; at least for me it is. It is not regret, nor is it remorse or nostalgia that gets you sick to your stomach. It is reality, it is that truth that you have no other option but to be present every single moment of your existence. There is no escape, no break or alone time from all of that life. I am a result of spending twenty three years swimming, struggling, diving, holding my breath and silencing the world inside that river.  I have met many swimmers, and I still do, some float with me others push my head down. The flow is endless and that river has gotten the best of many. 

I wrestle it sometimes, because I disagree with that force, I disagree with the pace. It never slows down, it just breaks into waterfalls, and I am thrust into the air hoping that I get some insight before I crash back into it. 

Sometimes my river splits into two, three or even five different directions and if I am not careful enough, whichever current that is strongest will simply carry me with it. You cannot stand still. Limbo is all in your head, time moves everything, and it carries you with it, all you can do is try to steer yourself into better conditions. 

That endlessness, it is the truth for all of us. That sameness is comforting, it is essential for learning. We carry ourselves so heavily in that water struggling so hard when we shouldn’t. I doubt the river fears it’s depths, as I doubt it mocks it’s shallows. Each has its days, and each carries us differently. Maybe sometimes smooth sailing means letting go, and simply enjoying being afloat.