Category: Journals

Nobody lost nowhere

1:42am, Ho Chi Minh City // August 20th

Down a dark alley way, a dog looks to me in suspicion, indecisive if I’m worth the taste.

I feel he senses I’m out of place; that I do not belong here.

… Read the rest “No Buddha”

Hiding in the shadows

One can feel like a vampire out in the desert, sun blazing. It’s cold hiding in the shadows all day, but the unabated sun is hardly bearable for more than a couple of minutes.

I’m used to the constant, thick heat of Southeast Asia at this point.

… Read the rest “Vampiric Tendencies”

Something to lose

1:39pm, Ho Chi Minh City

Today I woke to the sound of rain filling me with memories of growing up in the Pacific Northwest.

To me warm rain is like a warm blanket.

The warm rain of my past tugs at my heart.

… Read the rest “Ride and Die”

Musings of a lonely wanderer

Well if I can’t remember why I picked up the pen in the first place then I’ll simply write about The Despair.

Once again this morning I was engulfed by it. It comes from the pressure to succeed; the fear of failure.

… Read the rest “As You Did”

True sight

Sitting on the edge of a fertile valley. Trees push uphill in the distance, hands on each other’s backs like a trail of army ants: Brotherhood of Green. Smoke fills the vale from unknown sources. Little lights open their eyes blinking on, as dusk descends upon the highlands.

… Read the rest “Eagle Eye”

Pretending there’s more

There’s something this world seems to be running away from. And we do this by pretending.

By pretending and hoping there’s something more, than this.

We do it with false emotions; by pretending to care about that which we do not.

… Read the rest “Something in the Way”

The relentless pursuit of understanding

It’s been a while since I’ve written in this journal, by hand. There is so much to explore, so many questions to ask. So many lies to smoke out. So many things left to understand.

Where do I even begin?

… Read the rest “April 4th”

Nothing really matters

Often I hear voices speaking in Vietnamese while sitting in the kitchen, as it shares a wall with a bank.

Often I hear voices in my head, speaking of fantastical things.

I say fantastical but sometimes I question their validity, as the feeling can be unmistakable.

… Read the rest “Dead Ends”

Finding my way back

This world and its people want me to be something.

A certain someone.

And in “becoming” a certain someone, by assuming a role, one is trapped in purgatory.

Being a “someone”, or assuming a predestined concept, is to willfully imprison oneself.

… Read the rest “The Source”

Authenticity & mystical experience

This morning I awoke to feeling the pressure to do something I don’t really want to do. My mind was telling me this pressure was coming from the outside: another person. But I know that’s not really true.

… Read the rest “Gum Wrapper”