july twenty-ninth

someone very near to my heart recently asked me if i knew anything about dreams. and although we were discussing the pseudo physical, semi-conscious form of dreaming, i couldn't help but think of the concrete manifestation of these trance-like hallucinations. i turn twenty-two years old next week. twenty-two years of living. birthdays call for both an open and a close, a period of reflection and and an occasion for tactical strategizing of the next three hundred and sixty some odd days. dreams, if you will.  i can remember being eight years old and wanting the moon, figuratively that is, and as i grew older, learning what it would take to get there. my life has been a lesson of courage, of flexibility, perseverance, and a consistent refusal to be crippled by fear. i believe in forgetting and forgiving past mistakes, and in appreciative thanksgiving for accordant faith. new york is a city of dreamers, and i am so grateful for the twenty-one years that it took to get here. these streets are filled with the ceaseless pursuit of ideas, and i'm just another soul contributing to the chase. twenty-two will be a year of extravagant dreams.

july sixth

i have made myself so readily unavailable to silence and stillness as of late, falling into the helpless cycle of consistent diligence. and as i sit here and remind myself to breathe this morning i can't help but wonder when the idea of busyness became a complaint disguised in the most boisterous fashion. today i want to be the opposition, not lost in idleness or indifference, but rather a focused individual relishing in  how simple and unappreciated twenty-four hours can be.

"find me here, speak to me, in the place where i find peace again."