Of The Things that matter.


plastered in our walls are the marks of fragility
collections and recollections of faults and hurt that aggravate into scars that persist through time.
not imperfections nor blemishes nor anything tangible
but rather deep-pitted marks that never dissipate.
like our bulging insides where stars and galaxies collide
the incomprehensible matter of non-existence that fleets to exist,
yet governs our very entire being;
all in one spontaneous spur of connection, erupts.
we muster together fragments in our frail vulnerability.
lost, yet seemingly masked in strength;
 she smiles back as I’m frozen in my paces
all the while my demons come out to play.



Multiple times.
The gift of time offers us the salvation of reflection.
This intangible void of emptyness that so meager yet endless, holds the unravelling of events at the tip of our fingers.
We live by this so called time in a subjective fashion.
Some chase. Some linger. Some question.

When all is removed, it comes upon the individual to contemplate on this gift. For the choices that are to be made can only be made you and yourself alone. Society can pressure you, your parents will direct you, and your friends may advise you, but it is within the beholder’s hands that the decision is to be made on what this gift is to be spent on.

We can complain and mask our fears all we want with the things we think we need. Dive face-first into the concrete pavement on a late friday night, buzzed off your mind; or sit in the comfort of our bed mindfully of our decisions. It matters not because in the end time waits for no one and this priceless gift is only for you to decide.

So get up and ‘do’, because you’re wasting time already reading this.

Look at the wonderful mess we’ve made.

Look at the wonderful mess we’ve made.

To that time before having regrets and diving into the deep.

To that time before having regrets and diving into the deep.

The Things We Should Do

We should wander and get lost. Not so we can discover new places, but so we can find ourelves in the silence of one another.

We should make rash decisions and stupid mistakes. Not to be rebels but because we’ll never be as young as we are now.

We should write and paint and draw because the mere expression of words aren’t capable enough to capture the feelings we have.

We should smile more. Not so I can let you know how i feel but because the way you look at me makes it impossible for me to do anything else.

We should live, because the present is here and nothing can ever bring it back. I want to take you to the edge of the sea where the waves crash and the spirits are free; I want to bring you to the crevice of clouds where our darkest secrets are hidden. The things we should do are vast and endless but, I wouldn’t have it any other way than with you.


Sunday morning, 2:35 am in the morning.

Ambient music silently rolling in the background as the night’s sequential order of events come down to a hold. Jeans and denim top bundled into a circular fashion, tossed onto the floor of the room to accompany the multiple other remnants of clothing.

Unlike the room, my mind constantly rewinds back to the time we spent together last night. Short yet hectic, I knew we shared a little something I couldn’t put my finger on. Although with everyone and everything happening, I still found it difficult to focus on anything but you. The way you would smile and shyly curl your head down towards the floor when we talked. The way your dimples would form and come together, giving me an indescribable feeling of warmth.  If only I knew what you were thinking at the moment. 

Looking back on the night, it’s odd how comfortable I felt being around you. I felt comfortable being me around you and I know you felt the same way too. With all the countless things we talked about; aquariums, personal secrets, and the future, it all felt so right.

I could go on for paragraphs describing the series of events or what I felt at the time, but none of that would matter because it no where near captures what i feel now. Restless and lost, I feel the need to tell this to you somehow. This may seem cheesy and even weird. We barely know each other, yet I’m writing this deeply intimate post. It would be ideal for me to tell you this face-to-face, but I’d never be able to capture everything I wanted to tell you. So here’s my attempt at trying to tell you how i feel.

Too sudden. Too early.  They’re so many things that could go wrong with what I’ve said and done. But for the worthwhile things in life, sometimes I believe you’ve just got to dive in head first with your eyes closed.

I have no idea what this is going to lead to. But, I just can’t stop thinking of you…


And in times like these, you come to realize that it isn’t the places that make the difference but more the people. Leaving anywhere is never easy, especially when you’ve grown to bond with the people around you. Sitting in this empty airport, at lunch hours, I’ve come to realize how lucky i’ve been to meet such amazing/inspiring/beautifully fucked individuals. So this little blurb goes out to all those people. Those who’ve pushed. Those who’ve argued. Those who’ve made my experiences here worth the five short months. I dedicate this to you all and all the effects you’ve had on me even if you don’t realize so.

As a friend of mine would always say…


Portrait of a Writer

My final project for credit completion at Syracuse University’s College of Visual and Performing Arts Studio Concepts class: TRM 153



When I Fall

Gaze into the vast open fields of nothingness that lie in the horizon. Buildings, trees, and highways, progressively becoming less distinguishable as the soupy vapor swallows them. The 5am of a misty morning. Breathe. Inhale, 1, 2, 3. Allow the atmosphere to take you away into the cracks and faults within your memories, and reflect.

 Life is similar to standing at the edge of a cliff. The exhilarating rush of emotions that surge through your veins, that little part of you that taunts you to step forward, to take that risk, because the view will be worth it. Step-by-step, you inch closer towards the edge, simultaneously excited yet afraid with each step you take, curious as to how far you may go. But, with the uncertainty of never knowing when you might actually fall, you still take that step anyway.

 When I fall, I want to plunge with a smile. I want to be able to reflect on the past and not regret any of the things I’ve done, not even what I chose to say to the grunting bus driver who condescendingly peered down on me this morning. I want to end on a high note, drifting away aimlessly and carefree. I’m certain my life won’t flash by my eyes in the mere seconds of me dropping. I probably won’t even remember what kind of cereal I had for breakfast that day. But, one thing is certain. I will remember the things that I’ve done, and I won’t want to regret any of it.

Like the edge of a cliff, life can crumble and fall apart at any unexpected moment. The fragments of parched soil and roots hold onto one another for dear life as our boot prints continually press on them. Spec-by-spec, particles of soil slowly tumble down the declined slope of the cliff that we call life. These hardships in life slowly eat away at the soil of our life, making us more vulnerable to falling. But, for every step closer we take towards the edge, the more exciting and worthwhile the experiences are. So, what are you waiting for? Go ahead, make that step.