Here
I want to view my life more as a series of moments
Woven together
Beautifully, with all my attention to details
Instead of an endless to-do list
Trying to reach a destination that I am almost sure does-not-exist

I am realizing I am better off where I am
Here

Angels
Aren’t we all fallen angels
Don’t we all need saving
Aren’t we all lost causes

A deeming light
Waiting to be put out

War
In the face of war
I treasure my life and those around me
More

Are we the only animal that kills their own?
No

But it often feels like we are. Like it is a matter
Of semantics

A tornado of human thought
 

Chile
Many do not know you
But I do & barely, 
A forgotten thought over ten years old
Your open sky
Against the massive, rugged Andes

And the sunlights it casts on us
In the dreamland

 

Will
How much agency do we have?
Not much, it feels
And when I rise above it
Zoom out of it
It feels nonexistent
Negligent and distant
And so close to pointless
 

Greenpoint
I love green 
So bright I find it energizing
Lighting a forest in me
& the casualty in which
You remain anonymous
In the biggest city in the world
 

Age
There’s few things age can confirm
One for sure is the understanding that it all goes
Kind of like a river with no sense of direction
Or time
Other than its own might

An acceptance of what is possible
 

Painting
I can’t quite remember when it all began
Because I was four and I painted on walls
And an old tv
Because I figured why not
If I can see it there

It’s an imprint and an instinct 
To wish to paint
And for me: to need to paint
Because we work our way into a reality
And we relish in its existence

A perfectionist’s only dream

Remember
It’s not bad to remember
Pinned are the memories that make us who we are
But how do we deal with the ones that deal with us
The ones that kick us straight into our lung 
And won’t let us breathe

Forgetting is a muscle that needs to be exercised 
I tell myself
Like taking a brush and painting it all back to a white canvas
Or perhaps we can attempt to rework it into a better self-serving memory
If the former is too abrupt

In the end, letting go is at the core of it
At the very epicenter

The sooner the better
Like taking a swim, deep diving and trusting that
Which drowns us is best forgotten
 

Yoga
To be vulnerable comes first
And then it’s complete focus on breathing

A series of movements begin
And often we revert to a child’s pose

Nothing like complete awareness
Submerged by the hefty present
That I understand my fragility
And the persistence of strength

The light in me
Honors the light in you

Framing
How are we giving ourselves a fair chance if our first thought 
Is negative?

Can we reframe it?
Into something brighter or darker
Whatever suits best

So we can admire it for what it is
And not for what is not

Radio
It’s not that an idea is bad 
It’s whether or not the current time will allow it to blossom
Like, I love radio. I think it’s dope to hear someone else’s curation
But that’s only if they have good taste

Now I am thinking this has less to do with the music
And more with me
What I am willing to tune into…