The Ocean At Night

The ocean at night
Is mysterious
A dark lover
That holds all the secrets

I know you are there
But I cannot see you
Waves roll in from the darkness
Inviting me in rhythmic motion

The ocean at night is intimate
I walk along the edge
Of a cool saline sadness
Dancing with the water

Daring it to come closer
Playing with the unknown
Black expanse
In front of me

There is no end
To the ocean at night
It’s solidute is inviting
I ask my questions to the moon
Negotiate with the shadows
I’m still trying to figure out where I’m going

The moonlit tides
Soothe me
They tell me it will all be okay
Wispy clouds say
Keep going

The sky and water merge
In the dark
And I feel at ease
In my secret world
Where only I belong

The waves blow my troubles away
The salty breeze sets me free
I dance in the darkness
But you can’t see me

I sink deep into the chilly sand
Into the infinite
Stars and sea
Laid out before me

I trust the ocean at night
The invisible hum
A soothing lullaby
Asking me not to forget
That there’s a plan
I just don’t know what it is yet

Dark waters are illuminated
The moon smiles as if to say
You’ll see
Follow my soft light
I won’t lead you astray


Anticipation. I navigate the hectic, crowded streets of Hong Kong Central. Tourists and business men alike plough through the incessant traffic. Bodies run into me as I seek a ferry escape to the nearby island of Lamma. After navigating the complex, impassable streets of the Central Business District, I gratefully board a ferry to an unknown destination, a village name, and cross my fingers I’m headed the right way. Such is life. Continue reading “Lamma”


From the Midwest, to the mountains of Z├╝rich, the rough streets of Johannesburg, to my final destination: picturesque Cape Town, South Africa. How silly of me to think it would be as it was before. The mountains still stand, clouds rolling over the top of Table Mountain like waves, the lively streets are the same, the familiar shops greet me, but it’s different. I’m different. I play my own movies of what was, feelings of another time, I know this change, in fact I’m aware enough to expect it, but now I feel it. Continue reading “Water”


Something is wrong. I wake up in the night with sharp, shooting pains in my stomach and spend the next 2 days on a mattress surrounded by onlookers to my public illness. I don’t care – I’m deliriously sick. I can’t keep anything down, even water makes me violently ill. God, Universe, Something (Italian doctor in Nosy Be) – please make me well again. A remote island isn’t an ideal place to be ill, and the only way to get treated is a nauseous, choppy boat ride to the next biggest island – Nosy Be. Take off your shoes, lay on the cool tile floor in what appears to be a hospital, and enter when you are called in for a blood test. My sickness has a name: Typhoid. Continue reading “Tides”


Swakopmund has a sense of emptiness, of desertion to it, despite the stores, coffee shops and markets. Oddly, I feel like I’ve been here before, like I’m walking through a sleepy dream, recognizing the familiar palm trees, rocky beaches with foamy waves breaking and spraying the massive rocks. Until yesterday, I didn’t even know this town existed, I didn’t know I’d be here, but surely I’ve seen this coast before- I keep waking up, remembering I’m in Namibia. Continue reading “Swakopmund”

Game On

Alright, South Africa- you finally won me over. For whatever reason my first week here I was feeling a bit off, uncomfortable about where I was and what I was doing. It doesn’t feel like what I know of Africa here, it’s more Western, developed, and there are a bunch of white people that speak English (I’m not a muzungu anymore). Maybe I should have gone somewhere (like Tanzania) that I’m more comfortable? Continue reading “Game On”

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