About isolation

It becomes very easy, when you isolate yourself, to believe that people won’t understand you, that they couldn’t possibly comprehend what you are feeling.

And perhaps they won’t, you know? Perhaps they won’t be able to entirely understand what’s in your mind or your heart. But, if they are willing to listen, it means they are willing to see; so show them, show the people around you how you feel, how you hurt.

Let yourself be seen!


Light-a poem

My brokenness in parts

Is spread across this mattress,

It is hidden in the corners

Of this empty house and

I am breathing very slowly:

One is in and two is out;

I’m exhaling all the poison

And I’m inhaling the light.

As I sit, curled up in bed,

Time begins its slow progress.

I can hear it in my head,

I can see it in the darkness.

A shining outside the window,

From a rupture in the sky,

Makes the dust sparkle like silver

And it colours me in light.

Past beyond the midnight hour,

I’m now past the aching,

And I open like a flower,

I’m reborn in a new morning.

At the dawn of my tomorrows,

I’ll still bloom even despite

Of the bitterness of sorrow

And I’ll grow into the light.


Here’s to the artists and inventors.Here’s to the ones that create. Here’s to the unseen paintings and the unheard songs; to the unread stories and to poetries unknown. Here’s to the ones that make without ever fearing no one will ever see their creation. Here’s to those who are afraid to do so and here’s to them finding the courage to be artists even if no one ever will call them by this name. Here’s to you, dear friend, calling yourself a writer✍🏻, a poet🗣, a painter🎨, a singer🎤, an artist🎭-here’s to all the ones calling the art out of you.

2 A.M. drives

2 AM drives

they were always my favourite. 

i don’t know;

i guess it’s just something about the way the city looks at night,

the way everything seems to be full of life

yet it still is sleeping,


i guess it just seems peaceful.
and i remember that drive,

in those times,

it felt like peace was hard to find;

and so a city that looked peaceful 

brought me hope!

the lamps on the streets

illuminating the darkness whispered hope!

and when we got to the top and saw the city with all its wonder lights i understood

 that the darkness was beautiful because there was light!

What people are looking for, have been looking for since forever, is a way to cope with everyday life. The books, the music, the films, creativity and deeper thought- it’s just a bunch of people trying to make sense of the simplest of things: the moments. The minutes within the hour, within the day that’s good or bad, within the week that’s either amazing or awful, within the month that’s buried deep or on a constant rewind, within the year that you wish you could change, re-live or never have experienced. Because, at the end, whether you believe you’ve had it good or bad it doesn’t t really matter, when you are in this moment, right here,and you don’t really know what to do with yourself.


Slowly but suddenly, I felt a part of me breaking away, breaking free of the tendons that held it in place, and separating itself from my body. Not completely; it was still attached but, in a beautiful way, it was also free.

A part of me-a single, brave part of me-was blooming. My first petal unfolding.

I panicked.

“What are you doing?” I cried out. “Can’t you see where we are? Can’t you feel the dryness of the desert? The hopelessness of this unending wilderness?”

But it kept blooming.

This little piece of faith untangled itself from my doubt and started growing, becoming. 

Sure, I was afraid…but I had to learn that there is no fear in Love; I had to learn that the blooming takes place in the desert, not after it.