How Do You

How do you move through the world
When the world is against you
It will not admit it out loud
But will hint of injustice
In ways that you will feel
Yet will not be able to explain
It will make you question what is true
The pain will be your pain

How do you move through the world
When you are set up for failure
When you didn’t get the same
Amount of
And you know it
Others know it too
But will not acknowledge
At least not to you
They pray for you to
Go to college
Work harder
Deal with it
College doesn’t fix broken dreams
College doesn’t sew up the seams
Of unfairness, life’s cruelty
The heaviness of humanity
Resting laboriously
On certain beings

Others will not say
Not to your face
It will be talked about
You will be talked about
Not by name
In offices, in meetings, in expensive rooms
With catered dinners, stuffed pockets
Fancy watches, privelge
But nobody will do anything about it
Except you
It’s up to you

The makers of the problem
Will not offer a solution
But who created the problem?
How can you blame an institution?
The individual lingers
Behind corporate names
Government agendas
Money and fame
There are too many fingers
To point
Not enough to touch
To change

Help is offered
With things expected in return
Help is not free
It is not given willingly
Some people deserve things
Others only accept what help brings

Who decides who gets help
Help is a transaction
Not a gaurentee
Success is not equally distributed
Help is not equally distributed
Despite the need
The desperate plea

It’s life, it’s just hard
You’ll survive

These words run marathons
Around dispair
By people trying to care
These words are easy to say
Smooth utterances of the fortunate
The card dealing
The ones in control
The lucky ones
Things are going thier way

How do you move through the world
When you don’t have a voice
When you can’t speak
When you don’t know what to say
To get what you want
And even if you said it
Wrote it all down
It would be in the wrong language
In the wrong font

Nobody will tell you the rules
You fumble around in the dark
Looking for tools
Finding only a spark
It’s not enough

How do you move through the world
When you’re invisible
When no one sees you
When no one cares
Eyes averted
When you are painfully aware
Of the feeling
Of it being unfair
Of the meaning
Not going anywhere

Empathy is not possible
Without knowing
A society of hostile
Feelings growing

How can you fix
What you’ve never experienced
What you don’t understand
The ones who have the power
Seem to have the better hand

And you
The one who never got to
What do you have planned?
Will you be able to demand
Something different


I get lost in my mind, in images of what I want to be. But it’s not in front of me. 

I imagined that you had feelings, that you saw me dancing and our souls met. 

Then your presence subsided, the connection was lost. You faded for no reason. I always want to know why. 

Yet I don’t know what happened. 

Am I manifesting what I want, or pushing it away? 

Must I give up what I want so badly to get it? 

You tell me I will find it when I’m not looking.

But I’m always looking, do you walk through life with your eyes closed? 

I call love to me, 

Over and over again. 

Is that how this process works? 

Or am I just endlessly in my own world. The space of my mind tricks me. Disconnected from reality and the flow of the universe. 

I want to be in the flow, but I have to be here first. 

I got lost in the memory, 

In a dream of what I wanted to be. 


Right now. 

I will find you in the now. 

I must be present. 

Stop looking at what is not happening right now. 

At another person’s projected truth on a screen far away. Let go of what is not for you. 

For if a connection is to be true, it cannot be forced. 

My intuition will be my guide,

And it’s always by my side,

I just have to pay attention. 

I want to be here in my body, and to want what I have. I already want myself. Still. 

Do I need to get to a place of not wanting, to get what I want? The questions are daunting. 

Where does this place of no-desire exist,

You told me you found it, but still I resist. 

But is there a right one? 

Will you ever feel the same way for me that I feel for you? 

Can I truly have what I want or do I make concessions, settle for what fits right now. 

It’s close, but somehow,

Not right. 

I accept the fleeting moments of alignment, connection. They are special.

For I love all my experiences, 

Even though you will choose something else and go a different way. 

It’s still worth it, I’m grateful for all the days,

I spent with you. 

And the feeling will stay with me. 

I relish in all the moments.

Maybe it’s all just moments, and I get too attached. 

I can let go. 

Perhaps I will never figure it out and truly know. 

I close my eyes and soak in the moment,

Even though I might want it to be different. 

I feel you. 

In my body. 

I found you in my mind, in the pulsating energy in my chest. 

Flowing through me. 

You stay there for now. 

Come find me, 

In the sunshine, mountains, and music. 


I’ll be waiting. 

Looking for you. 

Because I’m a seeker, 

And I know you are too. 



Garbage, you know. 

Roasting, rotting food. Rats scampering, summer trash days in New York City. Piled high on the edges, masks to mute the smell. Walk faster, past the piss and garbage shit smells. The most expensive city. Trash. Filth. Layers upon layers of dirt, rot, excrement. Layers of an onion. Rotting onion. 

Spilled drinks, dog shit, human shit, homelessness, digging in the trash. Pretend like you don’t see it.

A model walking down a trash runway. Dancing down the dirty, smeared sidewalk in a suit. Trash art, street art. In style.

Body odor on the subway. A slow trickle on the floor. Rat smashed in the door. Stand clear. Don’t say anything. Eyes down.

Outdoor dining in trash. Fine dining. Hungry? 

China Town, hosing down that sharp fish smell.


You get used to it. I only see it for a few days and then it becomes normal. Ease into it like cold bath. It’s still shocking, the first day. Then fades away. Every time I come back it’s shocking.

Close toed shoes only. 

I love this city, I say on a crisp evening in Brooklyn, it really feels like home. A piece of trash is lifted up by the summer breeze and hits me in the face.

Is this natural? To live in trash? It’s expensive, desirable, you know. I wonder if everyone sees it. Is shocked by it’s unending presence. The first day. But what do you see?

Ignore all the things that offend, at every glance, every smell. It’s fine. Don’t you feel the energy? Close your eyes.

It’s the greatest city in the world you know. 


Running Mount Royal

True story, unedited to make me appear less strange, so no judgement please. I’ve just devoured a vegan orange infused chocolate croissant (after breakfast) and I think it’s a good idea to adventure on Mount Royal. I start to walk up sidewalks, through downtown Montreal, until I get to stairs, a clear path up the mountain. With a burst of energy, I leap up the stairs, two at a time, taking off layers as the evasive sun shines through the clouds. The redish orange scenery is breathtaking as bits of the buildings peak through, reminding me that I’m still in a city. Continue reading “Running Mount Royal”

Surf Therapy

Muizenberg. The beach town that became my home last year has tricked me. Tricked me into thinking it was the same, that I could pick up where I left off, but so much has changed. I find myself lost in thought, struggling to be present amongst this beautiful beachy community. Why am I here? I question why I came back, what I’m doing with my life, what does it mean? I look for answers amongst the sea and the mountains, my two favorite things, perfectly complimenting each other. Surely I’ll find my answers as I walk between the things I love the most. Continue reading “Surf Therapy”


From the Midwest, to the mountains of Zürich, 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”

I Think I Can

What did I get myself into? How did I end up here? Providence, Rhode Island. Brown. Reoccurring thoughts cart-wheel through my busy mind as I kick up crispy orange/yellow leaves scattered about the old New England campus. The truth is – it’s hard. I’m struggling. When I’m having a hard time, I don’t write. Because what if you knew that I doubted myself? That I questioned if I’m smart enough and capable enough to be here? Maybe I am if I believe I am. Some days I do and others I don’t, but I show up anyway. Continue reading “I Think I Can”


Vipassana – to see things as they really are.

I sit on a cushion in a low lit room with my eyes closed. My whole body tingles and I am weightless, completely unaware of the outside world, and even the other 30 something people sitting around me. What am I feeling? Change. Everything changes, constantly. I feel the particles my body is made up of change every second, my thoughts change, my feelings change. Non attachment and equanimity is what I’m seeking. Equanimity with every sensation I feel, not attaching to it, not avoiding it. Continue reading “Vipassana”

Wandering Warsaw

The sun has long ago set, the shops have closed, city life is subsiding, but I can’t bring myself to go in. The night is too perfect, the weather too beautiful, and I’m acutely aware that my time here is about to expire. I sip my tea, aimlessly roaming the streets of Warsaw, mesmerized by the cobblestone, the perfectly lined colorful buildings, and find myself at a castle in the old town. I can still hear the faint music of performers in the old town square, also savouring every last-minute of the perfect Polish summer night. Continue reading “Wandering Warsaw”

Queen of the Castle

Sunday morning I wake up with a busy mind and a desire to get lost. I grab a cappuccino freddo and set out on foot towards a distant castle, somewhere on the island. Dodging motorbikes, I ascend a road along the edge of a cliff, looking down at the maze of houses below, stretching out to the ocean. Indeed I get lost, looking for a path that will lead me to the castle. After making countless wrong turns, I realize the path I’m looking for isn’t a road, but a narrow staircase pathway. What seemingly is an entrance to a house is really a secret stairway leading to a quaint village on a beach. Continue reading “Queen of the Castle”

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