Core

I think I know you.

The part of you that you buried.

I used to fear, admire, and love … it.

When I saw you again, I thought it was gone.

But on the crosswalk, albeit briefly,

I glimpsed the smile; mysterious, conniving, and carefree.

I knew then that the part of you was alive.

It’s amusingly agonizing how long it has taken me to realize this notion.

I suspect I was afraid to look back, because the pain, I could not bear it again.

This is not the end of the story. This is the beginning of both the understanding and the renewed story.

6.10.2025

Core

It’s here, but not from around here.

The fire is still within you.

But the air, the light, the smell, the warmth all defy your memory.

Remember, all that has happened in the past does not go away.

Imprinted are the fragments of moments held in silence:

The incessant crashing of ocean waves,

Small inextinguishable ball of candle fire,

Crackling sounds of ice under your feet.

With pure honesty — no more petty calculations — implore what matters.

Not for others’ approval, not for vainglory, but for the art of life.

Decide for yourself how this chapter will go.

2.27.2025