Most of my time is spent watching, listening

and thinking. In all of those actions I am wandering.

I live in a neighborhood where I grew up in but was

never raised to be a part of.

Music is a huge part of me: Red Hot Chili Peppers, Led Zeppelin, The Weeknd.

I see it as an art form that transcends spoken or written word.

I read comics and manga, although before them I always had books.

I love works that spark wonder in my eyes, 

one of my favorites being Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman.

The beings in that world are beyond our comprehension,

yet the struggles they face are all too relatable.

Dream, Peter Parker, Eren Yeager, Zuko.

Their relatability is a reason why my passion lies 

in storytelling.

I like to ride my longboard through the park, the streets, 

on smooth roads, feeling the pavement rush under me

and the breeze caress my outstretched arms.

I love walking in the city, getting excited about the architecture

and admiring how much went into bringing an idea into reality.

Because that’s what art is, I think. Anything that you want it to be, for whatever reason

you wish.

Finding a unique building will put a smile on my face for at least the next ten minutes.

My friends love teasing me about it, but I don’t really care.

I love looking up at the clouds. They make me happy.

Nature is beautiful.

I like museums, and when I go to an art exhibit,

I can sit at one painting for hours, looking at every stroke, every detail.

Silence is something I value with other people. Just being present with them.

Comfortable. But I also love humor and engaging conversation.

I haven’t found a sweet spot yet. The search continues, and

It may never end. And that’s okay.

I want to enjoy the journey.

There are a few things that I have experienced,

and an infinite number that I haven’t.

I hope that the ones I come across will help me understand myself better.

Diving In

Fear. I’m scared of heights.

This is so high up. I can’t see properly without my glasses on,

But I know it is. What if I belly flop?

Imagine dying from doing a belly flop.

I’d be a legend just from failing.


Doesn’t seem like a bad tradeoff.

I’m scared of open water. Deep water.

Empty water.

I watched a lot of River Monsters with my dad as a kid.

Calm down, that won’t happen to you.

There are people watching. I just need to get down there, to the bottom, 

Then swim to the wall, and out of the pool.


…But i’m  not ready.

I’ll never be ready. Just need to do this.

Take three steps back.

Now run and jump. Deep breath.


Whoa, this is way higher than I thought, I might just flop.

Stick the landing.



It’s something that I can try to grasp,

But it always slips away.

The best way for me to tell time is by looking in the mirror.

I look at my facial hair. I prefer being clean shaven,

so I tend to do that every two to three weeks.

I don’t usually look at the date on the calendar, especially since


Now I wake up, and I don’t look at myself properly until I go to the bathroom,

where I have no choice.

That’s how I tell time now.

I’ve lost most of my connections to the world.

I forgot this year to watch the leaves change color.

I always looked forward to that before.

That realization makes me feel


Time changed, and I hadn’t noticed.

Or maybe I didn’t want to acknowledge it.

The result is the same.