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Are You a Wild One?

We think we know, until we don’t. We believe that we have gotten to the bottom of something until we start noticing the shaky ground and down we go. Some people stop trying, they no longer wish to learn. Some have had enough shakiness and have gotten weary of doubt. So, many choose to stop the process of discovery and remain in a place they like, somewhere familiar, a place where they know enough to keep a status quo. They give up on being a wild one.

This process happens the older we get. Some of us stop discovering at 18, some after college some as they get married, others with their first child and on it goes. Everyone has a way, everyone has a certain clock dictated by a couple of goals and a checklist. I’m sure you know someone like that, some body who simply “SIGNED OFF” from the crazy life. Whatever craziness is to you or them, they chose to walk away and be still for a while, they nest and settle and rarely ever fly away, as long as all remains bearable and within reach.

Except what about those of who cannot seem to choose a time or a goal to sign off after?

What about the wild ones and the absolute “train wrecks”?

What about me and you and all of our friends who grab a book, or go on an adventure and cannot but feel utterly small in an enormous world? Where does one choose that they have had enough?

The rat race continues and the stampede of dreams scurries over the settlers of comfort zones and familiarity.

It happens everyday that we see something we choose to forget or hear a story we cannot retell. We are so careful around the comforts of others, and we dare not step on the tails (tales as pun intended) of the ones who do not understand us.

Maybe there are the dwellers of concrete homes, and laid out plans, and the wild ones. Maybe there are those who travel to come back, and those who travel to let go. They carry their homes on their backs and their lives are transparent and light.

And so as a few more years catch up with us and a couple more drops into new unknowns land us flat on our stomachs, we take a moment to appreciate the drop, and reconcile our confusions. Life loves curve balls and upside down trails, and those who wish to travel those trails must bare the consequence of discomfort and surprise. Adventure awaits and home is a place we stumble through here and there; even if for a day there is no telling how many homes one is able to find.

So wiggle that dirt from your shoulders and remember the lights that guide you; you chose a life of chasing dreams that tread like wild horses. Your pursuit is a sight for sore eyes, and an unbelievable story for those who wait in rooms, feeling like giants in the tiniest concrete homes.

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High Diary of Footsteps in the Snow- the Amsterdam experience

The airplane sat on the runway for an hour in delay, and I was unsure whether it was the weather or my anxiety keeping it down. As soon the plane took off something snapped, my mind stopped; there it was: there I was, trapped by the moment. It happens so often it’s like an unconscious ritual by now. My tears start falling every time I leave a new destination, every time that the ground lets me go, my masks fall. All my heaviness is brought down by gravity and all that remains is a soul yearning to soar, and it does. It goes so far away, that I am a changed person the moment I touch down again.

So I keep on searching, and every time I think that I have arrived, I am weighed down by a trembling fear, a fear so tragic that time will not stop again, my eyes will not see the same wonder in the same way again. All the tricks I play on my mind become obsolete and I am left with myself, the self I have been getting to know slowly, and yet most of my light is still foreign, only to be found in the deepest quests inside, and the farthest trips shocking my senses out of a practiced sedation… And so I click my feet again and I leave the mud of familiar spaces.

Where do you go when you leave? What happens to your soul when you let it be? When you unburden yourself of all the excess weight? How do you fix the unnecessary glitches in your day to day conscious experience?

The search for wonder continues and I am nothing but a footstep in the snow. Almost never existed, melting into the bigger fluid experience. All i can do is dig my feet into the snow as violently as possibly and then just lift off lightly, as not to disturb the delicateness of the experience. But then again, nothing remains the same.

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Story upon story, my mind plays and skips across roads and thoughts less traveled. But then again, the roads I have travelled keep on teaching me, grilling my stamina and testing my willingness to accept the gloriousness of being so small in such a brilliantly huge world.

My heart is heavy sometimes, and my choking anxiety hits hard, but on most days my peace prevails, fed by the beauty of shores, lakes and sunflower fields.

The stillness of home feels as it should, but the pumping heart keeps pushing my eyes open, I can’t sleep; there is so much to see. So I put myself in my bed after days of sleeping on planes trains and cars, using sign language to try and describe the confusion of being so thrilled and so lost all at once.

I rest my case for now and leave some of my words here, I must release the rest with my eyes closed and my mind open. The soul glares with color and summons me to slow down and rejoice. The high of adventure sways my fingers into a halt, and I pull myself from this practice into a deeper one.

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A New york tribute.

Deep down in me lies a sense of gratitude, a sense of awe and loyalty. Not for a person but a city. A city that watched me undress my mind and unwind my thoughts. A city that heard me speak a truth that I couldn’t have said anywhere else. A city that showed me what matters most in my life. A city that humbled my pride and inflated my dreams. It introduced me to possible versions of myself that I didn’t quite like and along the way led me to realize the true essence of home. This city that I fell in love with, is one that i will leave. This city told me that it has seen many like me, but the world hasn’t. This city wants me to take my world as my fight instead of its streets. This city dwells inside my thoughts and emotions; it fed my hunger and gave me the kick. It wants to release me back into my scary world as a fighter for what i believe in. This beautiful and grand city doesn’t want me for itself. It sends me away back to where i belong. It tells me to change my cities before i change the world. I am New york and New york floods me. I found myself there in the people and in the stones; nevertheless, i have yet to find myself at my own home.