Peace Above the Surface

My thoughts keep me up at night as they tell me I should be ashamed with the way I’ve acted. I try to inject it with thoughts of reassurance and positivity because that’s what I learned in over 3 years of therapy. And for that I am proud. I am proud of myself for making it this far.

Although problems are never ending, I am happy that my internal dialogue now has a positive side to combat my negative thoughts about myself. And that is what I call progress. It’s taken a lot of work and still does, but the hardest part has already been done. The preparation behind the conquest over the seas of my mind has already begun.

Like learning how to swim all I must do now is to keep kicking to stay afloat. To me staying afloat is congruent to staying alive. Hoping one day I’ll reach a point of “guruism”, where I’m laying completely and calmly above the still waters of my mind. An oasis where all my thoughts remain positive. With the exception of very few negative thoughts too weak to wade the currents beneath the surface, eventually giving up before ever reaching the top.

Familiar Weather

Is it me or does this weather feel like love? Like a smell from my childhood on the tip of my tongue.

I’ve been hit by this wind before.

I have been in love in this warm and windy night.

My veins exploding with butterflies from underneath my flesh. It’s the wind who embraces me now.

This vessel which holds my spirit revisits all dimensions our loved lived through. Lost in space and time, this pheromoned air hits my face and brushes my hair— reminding me of a gentle touch.

These goosebumps erupted memories, caused by a nosy wind who witnessed our intimate adventures. How timeless our love felt in this weather.

I have felt this wind before.

It found me and came to ask when will we meet again.

A letter to Time

I’m left with these memories.

I beg you. Tell me, did they even happen?

I‘ve been victimized by the emotions tied to you so for that I demand your endlessness in return.

Lost in your universe I have slipped and fallen into your beautiful blackholes

Unsex me right now until all is bare and still

Have I been here before?

I have felt the results of your oh so righteous power

Your mindless conviction to bring an end to my moments. How dare you!

Answer me. Have I ever left this place? Oh silver tongued devil, whom I cannot hide from.

Tell our beloved darkness I said hello

Because of you I shall revisit soon enough.

So, adieu. Au revoir. Until we meet again

However long will you last this time?

Elevator to my dreams

I dream every night. And because of that I learn a lot about myself from my dreams. It’s hard to remember exactly how it began, but I guess that’s just the lesson of life. It doesn’t matter where you came from or how you got started. What matters is where you’re choosing to go and which paths you take. There will be many unwanted moments and stops along the way, but it’s having the journey itself that makes all the difference. Life is a lot like dreams in a sense, even if you have no idea how it’ll end, it all makes the journey worthwhile.

She’s part of something way bigger

I heard her call to me all day. To lay down my pain and suffering on top of her. And allow her to create something beautiful from it. She spoke in a small whisper until I got closer to where her voice could pull me in. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know what to do. I just had to do it. And do it on top of her. She told me what I had to do. Unlike any other voice in my life, when she speaks I listen, right away. She told me to show myself and all who are watching that she and I are part of something way bigger than the eyes can see, and hands can feel.

24 in Paris

Paris was such an intimate experience for me. I felt like I was home for the first time in my life. I honestly wished I could’ve stayed longer, but trust me I’ll be back soon enough. My spirit felt so at peace. I took this trip alone because I didn’t want to wait any longer for anyone to go with me. And I wanted this experience to be mine, as intimately as possible. This was my soul searching, self discovering, redefining my independence, gift to myself. And to do so alone and completely fearless was such a beautiful accomplishment. It truly feels amazing to have taken such a major step “into the arena” like Brene Brown says when choosing to DARE GREATLY.

The Voiceless Creatures within us

Honestly, the first time I really saw this it was upside down. And after deciding this painting was complete, I thought to myself “this looks a lot like the place spongebob and patrick traveled to when they fell asleep on the bus.” I wanted to name it the voiceless creatures beneath us, but as I started putting the pieces together on how I felt while creating this piece, I realized I was afraid to admitt “these creatures” were actually within me. And it shocks me, most times, the things that come out of me when I finally decide to create something. I definitely didn’t expect to paint this, but sometimes whatever it is —you just have to get it out. And I no longer want to be afraid of the darkness inside of me. I realize it will always be a part of me along with the vast of goodness I have in me. Both light and dark cohabitate in the milky way. So my creatures and constellations can share my soul as their space. Making me exactly who I am and who I’m proud to be.

Portal to My Soul

I felt I needed to listen.

Sitting at the window in an unfolded wooden chair, I felt the cool morning air of a Brooklyn Sunday morning. And I smelled freedom from the breeze as it brushed my empty canvas and caressed my nostrils.

I felt my soul speaking to my hands as they chose each individual color. I heard them playing telephone, and watched as they intermingled. I reenacted their colorful conversation through a plethora of motions with half a dozen brushes.

I chose to agree with their unorthodox directions and allowed the canvas to share with me of all its visions. And I watched it evolve into what it was meant to become. I became aware of the portal — as it opened the window and showed me my soul.

By listening– really listening.


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Callaway Gardens Zip Lining

My first time zip lining felt like staring my biggest fear directly in the eyes, with its grip around my soul.

I had just gotten off the plane in Atlanta, Georgia in the month of June. I was really excited because Georgia is my favorite place to be since majority of my cousins live there. However my oldest cousin decided that it would be a great idea to put me back up in the air but this time in the trees. She paid for me to venture through this tree top obstacle courses and zip lining. I go there and see what looks like a “survival of the fittest”, nature obstacle course with people in harnesses and wobbly, wooden blocks hovering in between trees meant for people to climb from tree to tree. In addition to  wooden steps, held together by rope, intended for people to cross over. This felt like the day I was meant to die because of my “slight” fear of heights.  However, I do love challenges especially if it means getting the chance to face my fears. Now this fear of mine does not include fear of riding roller coasters because I love them, along with the view and the rush of excitement; I’m pretty much an adrenaline junkie. But this is only because I am strapped into a secure contraption; sort of like a car in my mind. As for a harness, the only thing keeping me up in the air is rope, so this is when my actual fear of falling comes into play.

The entire obstacle course resembled a forest scene from that “Percy Jackson and the Olympians” movie. As I’m getting set up with the harness, gloves and helmet, I’m praying in my head for protection because this really felt like a dream becoming a nightmare. But since I’m not a punk and I love thrilling adventures, I’m not backing down. I remember how my hands were shaking after taking the first step onto one of those wobbly wooden blocks, having to step one foot at a time as I tightly grip the ropes for dear life. The real fear didn’t come in until I actual reached a tree. The first one was probably 30 feet high and every time I completed an obstacle course I had to climb up the wooden blocks that were hammered into the tree trunk and zip line across to the next tree. The gliding from tree to tree was my favorite part, but definitely not the climbing. That is when my actual fear would kick in, because if I ever looked down, at the brown dirt covered in green leaves far beneath my feet, it would be curtains for me.

But it wasn’t over until I conquered the final obstacle. And this wasn’t just any obstacle that I have been receiving blisters for over the course of 2 hours. Compared to the previous obstacles this one was certainly not for children. What stood before me was a 70 foot tall tree that I was meant to climb and zip line down from the top and across an entire lake to the other side. The fear I felt cannot be described. I still can feel it accumulating in my abdomen and tightening my throat. It really felt like death before me. I was crying on the inside and on the outside as I took my first couple steps up and refused to look down. My hands were numb from gripping the wooden blocks so tight I couldn’t feel anything but the fear generating in my chest. The fear of falling took over my insides but I could not allow it to take over my mind, because I wouldn’t be able to move. I just had to keep climbing until I got to the top. My breathing became shortened and I had to pause a few steps from the top, convincing myself the pride I would feel after having accomplished this unfathomable task. The last step I took onto the wooden canopy summoned a shower of relief throughout my body.

And the view was spectacular.

I was immensely proud of myself while holding on for dear life. Still daring not to look down, I saw the pristine blue lake before me surrounded by a congregation of tall green trees, overseen by a clear blue sky with nothing but sun and a simple breeze to provide tranquility. But the journey was not over, I still had to zip line across the lake. As I prepared myself, I took a deep breath and took off. At first I closed my eyes in prayer, afraid the rope would snap and that I would drown. But halfway across the lake with the wind blowing profusely against my face and through my hair I courageously opened my eyes. It was an incredible feeling, seeing everything rush towards me like that and amassing this astounding view all at once.

The moment my feet touched the earth again, I knew there was nothing I couldn’t accomplish.



I hear the wind blowing in my ears. So forceful though softly brushes against my cheeks. Drowning out the innocent laughter of children around me I can recall the horns of taxis and pedestrian heels treading the pavement. The bell from the church nearby tolls fives times. Reminding me that it’s five p.m. Prepubescent feet swiftly stepping in tireless patterns followed by faint adult voices, as they engage in conversation with one another. And again the wind returns, silencing irrelevant noise, infusing me with serenity. The trees almost speak to me in melody, what it sees.

Tilting my head back, I open my eyes and take in the sky. Clear and blue with only green blocking my view. Between the spaces of the leaves on the trees, I get a full view of the sun without a single cloud in sight. Just the way I like it. Bringing my head back down to the center, the sidewalk is now at eye level. This metal fence in front of me is a barrier between me and strangers of the street. A silver sports car racing stop lights gets pulled over by flashing red and blue lights.

The smell of burnt rubber invades my nostrils. But it fades as I inhale the sweet aroma of Miss Dior, surprisingly after a man in a suit passes by her scent became stronger as if she still lingered on his collar. The closer I get to the trees I notice it rained earlier. The faded  smell of freshly washed leaves had not yet evaporated in the sun. Strollers being pushed on the sidewalk bring an intoxicating yet familiar new baby smell.  As I tilt my head back again, pointing my nose to the sky the aroma of oven baked pizza fills my lungs. To where I can almost taste it.

I never liked chewing gum as much as actually chewing food. It’s almost like a decoy. I can’t swallow it because it’s supposedly bad to do. Such a tease. But the taste is what always get me to come back. The sweet fruity taste of this gum reminds me of a blissful getaway on a tropical island. Which is probably the name of this gum I’ve been chewing for almost two hours. Tropical mango. Go figure, my favorite fruit. This ordinary, orange, rectangle has now become a masticated latex of sapodilla in my oral orifice. I always love the tingly feeling in the back of my jaw that I get at first bite.

I grab the metal chains on both sides of my arms, and pump my feet to get higher. Keeping me above the ground, I adjust my bottom on this rectangular seat, like a toddler rocking in a highchair. This space feels smaller than I remember but I adjust myself  to be comfortable enough. The wind returns but now feels colder and hits me so violently like a snowball to the face. My head still tilted back as I feel invincible. I, who was afraid of heights, am now swinging higher than everyone else. I am not afraid to swing too high, where I feel connected to everything.