Searching sails In the night I branch out towards This tiny light It seems so small It might implode And maybe if I reach its node The knowledge of The world itself Will bless us with A timeless breath A sigh so strange We can’t foresee This breath is real This breath is me.

The ‘Oasis’ of Self-Inquiry

Whose stories are you telling? And why? Self-inquiry is so much more important now than I ever could have imagined. I take it so dead-seriously these days that I catch myself off guard. I used to hear the term ‘journaling’ and scoff a little bit. Mostly because I didn’t have the time to do it …

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A Rejection of the ‘Reactionary Self’

Uncertain and quiet, I still just don’t know. Lately I feel like I have no authority to be espousing my opinion on the internet, to post blogs, or even to write privately because I feel contaminated. A deep-seated feeling of perpetuating something that’s not genuine. Of creating something that’s not bore of myself but merely …

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Finding ‘Home’

What is the difference between Good and Evil? Are they just labels that we assign each concept, or are they concepts that transcend our mere understanding? And how can I know the difference between the two in this utterly confusing present? This feels like a silly question to ask since there seem to be so …

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Words are always following me. They hang above, trailing me wherever I go. Constantly composing, re-forming, re-stating. Once I have a moment of peace or silence, they flood me like the deluge…. An onslaught of compositions, essays, poetry, and random statements. I am used to this constant internal narrative. It’s been there for me all …

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Seeing seething, seeping wounds Bandaged more than their cocoons. Breathtaking, worldly, in delight Something broken, fangs in spite. Carrying burdens with their back Cracking barrels, stumbling track. Ambitions high amidst the air Spinning yarns, caressing care. Eyes want truth in light and thought Hands wrought iron, sow and sought. Be with the mystery, comforting space …

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