Galen

How are you?

Me

I’ve been in a time of transition.
Biological entropy has put life in perspective.
And motivation hasn’t been what it used to be.

I’m still doing things — I’m hosting events at Apple to help new hires and interns connect and set intentions. I’ve written music and lifted weights and made so many new friends. Things are happening. But I’ve also felt myself pulling back — I think there’s a large chunk of me that is not interested in being involved.

In anything. At all.

Galen

Expand on that, in what way?

Me

It boils down to this.

A young man realizes that life is not filled with the sunshine and rainbows as he thought it was. And he decides he doesn't want to engage with this bleak reality all the time, and, rather than process it–because he doesn't have very many people to talk with it about (because he has chosen not to)–he pulls away. And by pulling away from the sad life he loses the sweet one as well, because happy feelings cannot exist without sad ones.

This has left the young man in a sort of haze.

A much greater one than he is used to.

The hopeful kid wants to reclaim what he used to feel, before,
but he knows the past was never as good as he makes it out to be.

And at the same time, he will never agree.

Galen Hamilton

It sounds like you’re in one of those stretches where a person has to change. You said something powerful there — pulling back from feeling one thing often means pulling back from feeling all things.

Me

Exactly. It’s SUCKED bro.

I used to seek growth on my own terms — then I got to pull the levers myself.
But lately, life’s been the one pulling. And I’ve had to surrender to it and let the answers show up instead of chasing them. I used to feel so energized by the meaning I was making, constantly reflecting and crafting narratives to explain everything. But I’m tired. Tired of having to make meaning out of the meaning-making. Part of me had to die to make it through these last few months, and it has brought a new kind of personality crisis; this time, I’m learning to give in to the looseness of my experience.

All I can do is wake up in the morning and look in the mirror and accept that yes, I don't recognize the person in front of me, but I do see him. And all I can do is acknowledge him and say tell him I’m here for him and whatever it is that he needs to do to figure this out. Or he can do nothing at all.

There’s a kind of fatigue that comes from always asking yourself why. From constantly holding up every feeling to the light, inspecting it, trying to understand it. And at some point, you just want to feel — not analyze the feeling. There was a stretch where I didn’t know how I felt because I was too busy trying to understand why I felt that way. Wanting to know how I feel versus just feeling it. And now I want to live on the flip side of that sentence.

Galen

That’s the nature of real transformation. It’s not something we always choose — it happens. You’re not 16 anymore, change is necessary! And what you’re describing isn’t scary. It’s the evolution of your consciousness.

Me

Yeah. And I’ve been finding peace in new places. I’ve had long conversations with older mentors. One of them, said something that stuck with me — that at a certain point, death isn’t something to fear. He’s lived a pretty great life, and if it all had to end tomorrow, well then it would. What stunned me was that I could relate. And that didn’t scare me like it used to.

It just made me feel more human. More cognizant of our shared experience.

Because I have had days where I don’t want to get out of bed. Days where I wonder what it would feel like to just pause on existing for a while. I remember being in high school and thinking — not seriously, but still — that maybe if I just broke my arm, I could finally rest. Be in a hospital bed, not doing homework, not dealing with the pressure to perform. That was the extent of how bad it got sometimes. And then just recently, dropping my parents off at the airport, I saw this image flash in my mind of me swerving the car. It hit me — how casually these kind of thoughts could creep in.

And I realized I’m not alone in this.
It’s not that something is wrong with me.
This is just how we humans process.

We all feel this.

And I’ve come to hold so much more compassion for people who I’d used to label as fragile or lost. Because I have now been there. I have now felt it. And that feeling is perhaps the most grounding truth I’ve learned this year.

Galen

That’s a big realization. We all go through seasons where the joy goes quiet. And yeah, sometimes you just want to stop. Not forever — just long enough to catch your breath.

And that’s OK.

Me

There were definitely times when I felt like there was no joy left. Like I’d never feel light again. And it was scary. But I know now those moments pass. And I keep coming back to something I told myself: now is not the time to call it quits — I have the rest of my life to not exist. That’s my new truth.

And it rhymes too, so it must be true!

Galen

That’s a beautiful way to put it.
Sometimes the answer’s already there, inside the question.

That’s the deep work. It’s also what sets you apart — you ask the questions. You sit with the unknown. That’s a rare thing. But don’t forget to laugh too. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’re not going to let yourself go off course.

Me

That means a lot. Thank you my friend.

Galen

Anytime.

The End.

Over the last few months, I’ve been hosting weekly open mics at my apartment – I call this group The Caterpillars. The premise was that we’d come together and become butterflies through sharing art in a connected collective. I’d start these events off with sound baths and guided meditations—bringing people into a world where, by taking the first risk, hopefully I could create a space of safety and honesty. And they showed up for themselves, sharing things they hadn’t even accepted internally; everyone offered themselves up for witness in such powerful ways, and it was an honor to facilitate in the same way I had been held by various teachers and mentors.

But by the end of it, I was overwhelmed.

After I kicked off the event, I’d find myself shirking away
from wanting to be around large groups of people.

And when I was by myself
I didn’t know how to act or how to feel either
because I’d spent so much time with others.

So I began, in perpetuity, to fill my time with people
so that I wouldn’t have to think about anything.

Anything but the chaos inside me.

I had held so much space for everyone around me
and misplaced the space reserved for myself.

So when the quarter ended
I had a couple of weeks to recharge
before my internship began.

And I knew exactly what I needed to do:

It was time to go back to Esalen.

Now, Esalen—for those of you who don’t know—is heaven on earth. It was founded by two Stanford alums in the ‘60s and quickly became the center of the counterculture revolution and a space where people can come together and get to know each other in the context of reinvention. It is fertile ground for a collective shared experience in which guests come with the intention to work on themselves and rewrite their relationship with each other.

I spent a month there last summer, doing a workshop on connection and belonging with the legendary Steven Harper. That experience changed my life. And the last few months of reintegrating have been… well, rough.

Leaving Esalen felt like returning to dystopia.
And this Brave New World was not what I wanted in my life.

And so I decided it was time to go back.

I signed up for a day or two of volunteering, where you can go for free, and asked a friend to give me a guest pass for another day or two. Just like that, I’d stacked up about four days of paradise for a price my Indian parents loved.

I just had to figure out where to sleep.

That’s when I found out—Kesha was hosting a songwriting workshop at Esalen that week. Yes. That Kesha. The queen of nostalgia was leading a bootcamp called “The Alchemy of Pop”–a songwriting bootcamp structured around finding truth in written phrases and providing melody to that truth. She was facilitating alongside Hrishi, a South Asian Carnatic singer I’d been following on Instagram who fused Indian classical music with Western melody.

I started to wonder—should I just sign up?

I’d already gotten to stay at Esalen for a month last summer on a very generous scholarship. And here was a chance to work with one of the biggest stars of our generation… but it cost money.

I flipped.
Flopped.

Thought about the money.
Thought about whether I deserved this or not.
Thought as I drove to my friend Jack’s house.
Thought as I spent the day on Jack’s couch.
Thought a wittle bit mo–

Okay, you get the point.

And I came to a decision.

DRUMROLL PLEASE!

pause for dramatic effect

I said no.

Because you know what’s better than a week in Big Sur?
A free week in Big Sur!

So I left Jack’s, drove through the night to Monterey
and checked into a $50 motel with a “non-smoking” room
that smelled improperly labeled.

I barely slept.
But I survived.

The next morning, I drove my way back to Esalen.
And slowly, I was brought back to life.

The coastline, the mountains, the familiar Big Sur air that I had gotten to know so well from my time last summer—it was all coming back.

I started to feel really excited.

Walking back into the Esalen landscape felt like coming home in a way my body instantly remembered. I walked through the garden. I passed by nooks where I made friends, had late-night dances, and took naps under the sun.

I recognized these places.

Places where I’d woken up again,
places I’d written my heart out,
and places where I got to start over.

This place was home.

This opportunity—this hope—gave me a wordless sense of calm.

But I’ll be honest, I couldn’t fully tell how I felt.

I couldn’t comprehend that I was back in this place I’d developed such a mythos about. A place that, once I left, I couldn’t even begin to explain to my friends—the experience was too ineffable to concretize.

It felt overwhelming.

It felt like a fever dream.

It felt as if I had landed on another planet.
Like an astronaut on Mars.
Or maybe—more accurately—a human visiting Eden.

Providence was what it was.
And it was hard for a mortal like me to feel.

As I volunteered in the garden
reconnected with friends
and tried to be gentle with myself
my body slowly, once again
synced up with the rhythm of the land.

At lunch, I ran into Jahanzeb—an old friend from my last visit.
He was helping assist with the workshop.

“Hey Ariv,” he said, “meet Kesha.”

I said hey.

And there she was.

She was a person. I was a person. And we had lunch.

I grew up making people happy.
The one-hyphenated-word synonym of this sentence
is called people-pleasing.

My rationale was always this: it comes at a very small cost to me
to tweak my personality and phrasing to cater to another’s experience
so why not do it if it makes the world a better place?

As I’d later find out, this desire to cater to everyone’s experience
can begin to weigh down on a person. But this week, I wasn’t that guy.

Since I'd been facilitating workshops and events
I came into Esalen overflowing with new people to hang out with.

I felt like I had more than enough people in my life
who loved and cared for me than ever.

So I hung out with her like I had nothing to prove.
And not needing anything from her made it easy to be her friend.

Later, I went to the first session of the bootcamp
and we started with a guided meditation.

After, Kesha asked us to word vomit on a piece of paper.

So I started writing, and writing, and writing
encircling words and phrases that felt true
sentences that had voices of their own.

Then we got into groups and fleshed them out.

She asked us if we wanted to share anything with the group
but I felt so vulnerable that for the first time in my life, I didn’t want to share. My coping mechanism was telling myself I’d grown up always wanting to share
so this time, I decided not to. I just sat there in silence.

I knew I needed to. But I didn’t.

And then when we went into a smaller group, I shared with my group members—who I’d never met before—that I felt too vulnerable to share.

And they built me back up.
They witnessed my art and told me how much they enjoyed it.

Just before the workshop was gonna end, I shared it with Kesha.
And she really liked it.

All of a sudden, I realized I needed to stop self-filtering
before my words even reached the paper.

I needed to stop blowing out my little truth candle
before it had the chance to glow.

I needed to start saying what’s on my mind
and let it be held and witnessed.

If I couldn’t be honest with myself
how could I be honest with anyone else?

I had built so much of my core character
on being a competent authentarian
I had forgotten there were levels of honesty
that I hadn’t even begun to tread towards.

And it starts now.

Later that evening
Hrishi performed Carnatic music
and I was blown away.

I mean, shoutout @hrishisongs!

It was probably some of the best live music I’d ever witnessed.
And I had a front-row seat.

But I couldn’t stop thinking during his performance
about the difference between him in his chair performing to me
and me sitting in my chair witnessing him.

After going to Esalen, I realized that if I could do anything
it would be to facilitate a workshop like this.

And watching him play—it’s not that it made me jealous.
(let’s be honest, it did)

But it made me think about what I might’ve been able to do
had I worked a bit harder. Because he was 26 and I was 20.
And I desperately wanted to create the space he did.

I was so close, yet so far away.

I thought a lot about this during the weekend and after I left.
My generation calls this experience mogging.
Def: “When somebody unintentionally makes another person feel useless.”

I’ve been afflicted by this feeling all my life.
Let me give you some context.

Growing up in the Bay Area, most people ask you "What do you do?"

And I hate this question.
Because I just—I live.

I don’t have an elaborate explanation for what I spend my days doing
because I tend to live life moment by moment–and although it has its pros and cons, this lifestyle tends to cater itself poorly to self-description.

Long story short, I got over myself pretty quickly
because at Esalen, it doesn’t matter what you do
and it doesn’t matter what you’ve done
in fact, nobody asks—and you don’t need to tell anyone.

And what was more important was the realization
that I didn’t have to sit in his chair
to shine the light I so deeply wanted to share
on the world stage
and my inadequacies didn’t have to be a weight to bear
rather an opening for more inquiry.

Sounds like I had some work to do
before I could run my own workshop!

On the second day, I decided to show up
and I shared some of my grievances
in regard to love and connection
and IS SOMEONE EVER GOING TO LOVE ME
with the entire group.

They reminded me that my fear of not knowing
did not have to be a lonely burden to carry.

And all of a sudden, the magic began to flow.

Later, I found myself in a group with the only other young people in the workshop. We found each other by chance, and what followed was an adventure I’ll remember for the rest of my life!

Together, we combined our reflections and wrote a song called “Like I Do.”

I had always wanted to be a songwriter.
But I never felt fully comfortable with my voice.

Acting? Public speaking? Sure. Give me a stage, and I’ll light it up.

But singing?
That felt like taking my clothes off in the middle of a crowded street.
That was something I never felt good enough to be confident doing.

On that day, people complimented my voice.

Not just the writing. My voice.

And something shifted.

The faucet turned on
and the art began to flow.

On the third day of the workshop
we had an open mic where everyone shared the songs they wrote.

I performed three—one solo, and two group pieces.

And I had the time of my life.

Everyone took risks that day
so many who came in not calling themselves songwriters had found a voice
and even if they weren’t on key or fully confident—they spoke their truth.

And they spoke with honesty
and taught me the meaning of authenticity.

It was a beautiful moment to be a part of.

At the end of the show, as we wrapped up and started exchanging compliments and approbation, one of my new friends walked up to me.

He hugged me and said:

“Protect your heart. Hold on to your light.”

At that moment, I didn’t need to be useful.

Didn’t need to impress.

Didn’t need to explain who I was
or why I was worth knowing.

I just needed to be there.

And I was seen for that.

Thank you Otto
for giving me exactly
what I didn’t know
I needed so badly.

Witness.

On the final day,
I wanted to do everything I hadn’t done.

I hadn’t been back to Esalen in months
and I wanted to canvas every crevasse
and do everything I could before my departure.

So, in an effort to tear myself away
from the Silicon Valley normative
I did the exact opposite:
I laid down in a hammock and did nothing.

For two hours.

After all…

the most un-optimal decision
is the most optimal

Later that day, as I pondered reintegration
I thought about how easy it was to fear the future.

How could I build a loving relationship with what’s coming
rather than one sculpted out of dread?

And I remembered something Hrishi had mentioned earlier:

“I like to think—what advice would I tell myself when I get through this?”

And this line came to me:

And at that moment I knew
I’d make it through
the hazy uncertainty of today
into tomorrow.

At that moment I was embraced
in a cocoon of warmth and safety
freed by the certainty of this phrase
yes, everything was waiting for me.

There are people in the world who love you
and want to hear what you have to say.
You may not feel that everywhere
and that’s okay.

So go find the places where you are respected.
Where you are heard.

You don’t need to convince everyone to love you.
You just need to find the spaces where love is already waiting for you.

That’s what I want to build.
That’s what I want to bring to the world.

So if you’re in the Bay over the next few months—reach out.

We can create those spaces.

Not everyone can make it out to Big Sur.
But everyone deserves to feel this way.

After all, everything is waiting for you.

To all my friends, new and old
thank you for once again reminding me
that everything I’ve been searching for
has always been inside of me.

It’s an honor to share this life with you.

The Beginning.

love is stupid
me and my friends
thought it was hilarious
i grew up making fun of harry styles
of taylor swift and the legendary john
for their sappy songs
about the same things
i mean how was all of me
supposed to mean
that much to another person
was love really a real thing?

because growing up
i was told love wasn’t for me
at least culturally i wasn’t supposed
to get into the habit of falling until
i could stand up on my own two feet
but what they didn’t tell me
was by the time i was old enough
to have permission to ask her out to coffee
i wouldn’t know how to ask her if she loved me

love is make believe
at least that’s what my uncle told me
i mean he didn’t say it to my face
but implied with his own relationship
that it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be

love is hard
but bruno mars said
i would die with a smile
so why not stick around a while?

love is cheesy sometimes
and cheezy love is just fine

but love is terrifying
it’s terrifying
to watch my friends
enter whirlwind romances
and wonder if i’ll ever
have one of their many chances
to love and be loved
at the same time
to hold on to another
in a world beyond time
to engage in companionship
like nothing else matters

love doesn’t come around often
and love is not guaranteed

it’s not every day i
stumble upon a darling i’d
be willing to fall in love with
but beggars can’t be choosers
i mean how much longer
before i have to switch to guys?

love is possible but
you have to make the first move
you have to initiate
you have to pretend like
you’re not pooping your pants
like you’re not terrified
one time someone told me
“you have to play the game” right
i mean how can i be honest
if i’m scared of what’ll happen
if she found out i was a nice guy?

no you have to buy dinner
after all, love is so cheap!
said no one ever

but in my digression
i can’t forget to admit
that the rappers were right
about one thing — love is lit

love can make a little boy feel
that love is like the movies
i mean it never really is
but can you let a kid dream
maybe one day she’ll walk by
and i’ll get to sweep her off her feet
or she’ll sweep me off mine
either way i’m in for the ride
or at least an opportunity to try
to realize my bollywood dreams
to be the bachchan to my ashwariya rai

love is partnership of all kinds
love is four eyes
making peace with compromise
reminding each other why i
decided to take a leap of faith
and tell you i loved you last night
that was shakespeare

love doesn’t make sense
maybe that’s why its so fun to try
because love is better than the movies
and though i don’t know who you are
or where you’ve been all my life
i know there isn’t a logic to love
so it’s only a matter of time
before for this hopeless romantic
gets to meet another wunderkind
willing to make believe fantasies
and create unbelievable realities
willing to take a risk
willing to lose it all
willing to find capital L love in him
after all love doesn’t have a definition

my parents will celebrate their
twenty-fifth marriage anniversary this year
and i hope i’ll get the chance to
mean something to another
like they have to each other for so long
and their love had begun
in a newspaper ad my
dad’s parents had put out in 2001
because that’s how it was done back then
their love has never been perfect
and at times, it’s made me confused
how could they argue over petty little things
and oftentimes be so rude
but then i watch the way they love me
the way they take care of my brother
the way they took pay cuts so they
could be present as father and mother
their love isn’t perfect
but their love is real

and that is the kind of love
i’ll stick around for
that’s the kind of love
i can’t wait to feel

It was an overwhelm that taught me everything—
and brought me closer to what’s here.
It was a hopelessness which proved a greater gift
than I could have grasped at the time.

A few months later here I am,
another self in a sea of versions,
my multi-frenic nature
comforted and vindicated by
my peers and professors.

Just a few weeks ago I had
lost my voice, only to find it
after dropping the mind-numbing
vices I had thought I was using—
they were using me.

I’m excited to announce
I now travel equanimous
and enlightened!

I’m just kidding, but there is
an innocence and awe to
life’s force that has allowed me
to, what was the word I once
despised?–ahh, yes!

coast.

I haven’t written very
much poetry, simply because I
haven’t felt the need. Notice, not
the urge, want, or longing,
the need is what has gone missing.

For the first time in many years,
I am not chronicling my life
in a dailyish method in which to keep
my story congruent, my narrative
under my control.

In the past I have
blogged, podcasted, spoken
vlogged, tiktoked, poetry-ed
(there’s the poet coming back
with his made-up words!),
and what a delight it has been.

With that noted, I want to take a
moment to bask in the sunshine
for a while, without analysis.

I want to proceed living without needing a
poem to provide pretense for the present.

mmm, that was poetic

I have reached
a flow in which being is
an overflowing of love and
bliss, in which everything
I’ve asked for, or rather,
needed, has already arived.

And this faith alone seems to
be enough. Enough for this
contentment to not feel like
complacency. For coasting on
to not feel like copping out.

These are among the
happiest of days I’ve ever
had the opportunity to be with.

And right now,
I want to be with them.

it’s exhausting to write
when i don’t want to
and even more difficult
when i do

life is filled
with an overwhelm of choice
and it’s a lot easier
to stay in my room

so i did that this week
retreating to my family home
spending more time living
than questioning why

and while doing so
engaged with the world
in a lighter way
without pressure

i met friends
old and awesome
i caught up with family
in a more relaxed way

this break was not planned
and as a result
there wasn’t enough time
to create expectations

thus i could live my life unbound
to the whims of my aching mind
and i could interface with my heart
free from moderation

i noticed tides and aversions
miracles in tiny moments
and a more intentional entertainer
who did less, and be-ed more

i felt deep melancholy and heartache
in short moments close to midnight
i felt tender compassion in the morning
and a sense that it was enough to be here

i watched the corners of my mouth
unfold into a sunny-side smile
broad, silly, and knowing
dancing in the daylight

i cavorted with my cousins
and conversed with my parents
i played golf with my brother
and was a kid again

i did all of this without many words
so as to allow myself to live
i did all of this without any expectations
there wasn’t enough time to form any

"i'll reclaim my story eventually"
i’d remind myself quietly
but for now i wanted feeling it
to be enough

i still do

-

freedom

a good friend recently told me
that she had stopped searching for more
and had, for the first time
sought after the opposite

she’s a fair bit older than i am
and can justify her present desires
with a colorful and successful past

i often wonder how
at twenty
i can explain
my longing for less

what have i done to earn my freedom?

-

zero shoes

my self-indulgent fantasy
is fulfilled daily
with food i never asked for
and friends who never asked for me

yet unbelievably pernicious
is the irony in my shoes
too heavy to step into
to tight to be shared

i inhale rainbows
and exhale binaries
i laugh a hollow laugh
and smile a shallow smile

i run in shoes without cushion
and chase problems in paradise
in hopes that solving them
will make me lighter

in one moment i’m self realized
in another, under the sea
i claim i’m a lucky creature
but i just want a girl to like me

so when it gets late on the coast
and my sneakers fill with sand
i leave behind my empty mind
and scour my heart for ideas

how much longer
can i run alone
before i fall off the bluff
and into the ocean?

how much longer
can i convince myself
i deserve all of this
without understanding why?

how much longer
will waking up be enough
if i keep falling asleep
standing up?

i’m not depressed

i’ve just got zero shoes
that you can borrow

-

here

it’s easier to need less
when i have more
than i could ever ask for
in your companionship

thank you for being here

-

more is coming soon :)

Nevertheless, we follow religion, dogma, and doctrine
to convince us it will be alright.

It is impossible to predict when we will run out of time,
so we busy ourselves with work, hobbies, and family.

We erect walls, enact policy, and create social contracts
to cope with the inevitability of our passing.

We desperately want to feel like we have a place on this earth,
so we find names, labels, and ideologies to place our organisms into.

One of mine is being deeply interested in the human experience
and what consciousness feels like.

And this calling card has made me lifelong friends.
It helps me feel like I belong.

We have barely scratched the surface of what it means to be alive,
and I’m here to figure it out.

And I know I’ll be lucky if I can peel even one layer of the onion backwards, but this is the game I’ve chosen to play.

And though I know it’s foolish,
every attempt to map the immensity
of the technicolor I feel
is the most magical of them all.

What I’ve learned is that my brain is a special thing,
using schemas and past experience to build
the most coherent imaging of reality there is.

It minimizes tension and collects objects that would otherwise feel foreign into shapes, colors, and feelings.

It builds me a beautiful body of work to bring myself through and beyond.

It affords me the joy of deep, unstructured loving,
the pain of harsh, cold truth, and pride in the last sentence’s alliteration.

It provides me with the luxury of understanding math, physics, and literature, and at the same time, the absurdity of it all.

And more than anything else, it reminds me
how little I know about where it all comes from.

The neural correlates of consciousness maintain, quite explicitly,
that consciousness has its root in the dense neural networks of our brains.

We’ve barely touched the gut-brain connection, or the vast proportions of what Feynman calls cargo-cult science.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last twenty years,
if it works, it’s worth considering.

Even if it’s not scientifically bulletproof,
what we call “woo-woo” in the west deserves a little more inspection.

‘Oh goodness,’ you must be thinking, ‘how fallible he is’.

And you aren’t far off.

In fact, add some salt on the grain you’re munching on,
because I know nothing.

I wear my heart on my sleeve
and know the consequences of trusting too early.
I give my all to too many things at once
and am a living jack of all trades.
I follow the magic of serendipity to a fault and have
no clue how I’m going to fund my living dream upon graduating college.

I listen to music more than
I listen to myself,
I build bridges out of promises and know
I can’t keep them all, and for god sakes,
I’m vegan – and those cats are crazy!

You have no idea just how much I’ve gotten wrong.

And when you look in the mirror, I wonder,
do you know how much you have too?

We are all works in progress,
and there isn’t a perfect way to patch up our broken walls.

So we must provide ourselves with grace and permission
to try on different textures of being.

Because without an open heart and curious soul
we forget we are whole by default.

We matter from the very beginning.

We are complete at birth.

And whatever definition of consciousness
helps you feel closest to this truth,
the only one I can offer you,
I say live it.

We haven’t got a huge amount of time here,
and if you find aliveness in a certain feeling or phrase,
then it is the answer.

Call it life, god, or nothing at all,
nothing is true,
except for what centers
your point of view.

So trust it.

There isn’t a better explanation than yours.

as a collective
we’ve become riddled with hate, addiction
and a general dissatisfaction with our lives

it’s sad to read the new ai updates
and think about how many more of us
are becoming wall-e’s human beanbags

the predictions we’ve been making are coming to life in front of our eyes
and all we can think about is how much of the residuals enter our pockets

on the bright side
we’re smarter than ever before

and we have the opportunity to take advantage of this in a significant way–reducing all-cause mortality, shortening the 9-to-5 workweek
and maybe even increasing global happiness

and although we are making progress
the mismanaging of this resource is palpable

the more i learn the more i recognize i inhabit an nth derivative of “reality”

the world is run by a few individuals on the backend
while the frontend convinces us we have free will

my bottom line?

i don’t want to optimize for a life
that maximizes the power broker’s lower bound

what am i signing up to optimize?
what systems am i making more efficient?
who am i helping—or, more curiously, who am i hurting?

can you tell i’m a computer science major?

i grew up in awe of steve jobs
and the world he created

now our devices have become a cheap replacement
for what we used to call connection

the crows
don’t ask questions
they offer suggestions
squawking out preference 
with shrill songs of dissidence

the crows
don’t beg you 
to heed their warnings
they remind you what’ll happen
if you don’t

lions and lemurs
are quite fond of the little crows
and don’t let them get started
about wasps and fleas

make haste!
you two armed creature
they exclaim
fly your own path
don’t pretend the crow over there
is who you were meant to be

after all
one direction
is an extinct boyband

or pretend not to follow
and drag your digits behind me
watch as these birds of prey 
quickly and quietly
eat you away

remember
fate is up to the fated
not the fearful

but before you agree
don’t let me 
shape you into someone
you’re not

after all
how would i have the map
to your key
when the door to mine
has eluded me
all this time?

in fact
if you think you know
where you’re going

could you point me in the right direction?

maybe all it takes is turning our phones off for a while
in fact, this week i’ve chosen to leave mine in the cupboard

you might find it interesting to do so too

because without the silence to think and reflect
how can we begin to understand how we actually feel?
and, as embarrassing as it is to admit
i am addicted to my phone again

and if anyone asks
what you did with your phone
tell them you’re on a long flight
you’re going back home.

he asked us

what’s your relationship with love?

i answered

well, i’ve figured out the self love part pretty well
i looked in the mirror a few years ago
and for the first time said i was proud of mys–

if i’m hearing you correctly
do i have to be proud of you
for you to accept my love?

in that instant
a pipe inside of me burst

the tears i had felt shameful for never shedding
after the passing of my grandparents
the tears i needed to flow down my face
and soil my lips with a salty aftertaste
the tears i couldn’t coax out of myself

slowly but surely
these tears begun to flow

over the last few weeks
i’ve integrated this experience
in my day to day
living in wholeness
in an embodied kind of way

curiously

over this past weekend
i saw a different side
of this depth
in a sillier
more matter-of-fact way

i used to abhor this phrase
but i must give credit
where it is due

there’s a levity that comes
from realizing life doesn’t need
to be wrapped up in meaning
all the time

this life can be a funny thing
this life can be a silly thing
this life can be anything
this life can be everything

and there’s nothing i can do to control everything
especially the impermanence of it all
even when i do all the “right” things
life still holds the reins

it’s terrifying
yet hilarious
it’s ridiculous
yet freeing

i often find myself on a tightrope
tip toeing a dance between
THIS IS INSANE or this is fine

i orbit this line in terror

what happens when i fall off?
i’ve never been great at balance!!!

this weekend
i fell off the rope
only to find i fell two feet
onto a new high wire
straddling a new line
a fresh binary or
to try and pick between

but there is no or

it’s happy and sad
it’s everything and nothing
it’s life and death

there’s nothing at the end of the rainbow
the only thing we can do is live

that’s it

life is this funky little experience
and we’ve invented a litany of options
to choose how to entertain ourselves
while we wait for it to end

from the moment we’re born
the clock is ticking
so we might as well
show up for it

we might as well do things
we might as well make things
we might as well try the love thing too

life will happen
whether we stress about it or we don’t
so we might as well laugh at everything
as it all unfolds in its brilliance

there’s a joy i’ve found
in recognizing the absurdity of it all
a lightness that makes the weight bearable

it’s heavy and light
silly and serious
crushing and lifting
all at the same time

no one knows when
they will fall for the last time
the rope only ends when it does
and not a moment sooner

i don’t know if this feeling will last
maybe tomorrow i’ll have to start over
or maybe not

either way i’ll keep going
i’ll keep enjoying the ride
and find comfort in knowing
no one has it all figured out

and no one ever will

my grand conclusion?

and that
my friend

that is as deep as it gets.

what’s real is a poetic journey
through the shifting landscapes
of perception and emotion

in this evocative collection
you’re invited to explore the fluid boundaries
between what is and what isn’t

inspired by the undulations of time
the book weaves together moments of
clarity and confusion
discovery and unraveling
mirroring the unpredictable rhythms of life itself

reality is deeply personal
what feels emphatically grand to one
may seem painfully abstract to another

through these pages
you’ll encounter a collection of realities
strung together in the order of discovery
just as life unfolds

there aren’t definitive answers
but rather lingering questions
highlighting the magic found
in unanswered realities

it’s an invitation to find
strands of truth
that resonate with you
sharpening the lens through
which you view your own moment

what’s real is an incomplete beginning
a heartfelt attempt
by an imperfect being
to piece together the
essence of existence

it’s written in the form of feeling
capturing the raw
and unfiltered emotions
that define our human experience

within this collection
i hope you’ll find
fragments of the real
that speak to you
enriching your journey
through the ever-evolving tapestry of life

this is what’s real

now available everywhere
buy it here!

and also published my first book
the book will be *hopefully* approved
in the next few days
so stay tuned for a link

but first
let’s talk about yesterday

yesterday i performed my poetry
in front of my close friends
a 30ish minute set
full of narration
character play
and poetic release

we breathed together
we felt in communion
and we shared deep presence

-

if you know me
you’ll know i gave a
speech in high school
that changed my life

since then i’ve searched for a stage
larger than myself
to find that feeling again
to feel the profound sense of belonging
elicited through the radiant feel of a collective

guess what?

i found it!

and it was more beautiful
than i thought it could ever be

there is a wisdom
to quality over quantity

to having an intimate
captivated
group of feelers

to having my best friends
and greatest companions
witness and co-create
pure life with me

i have a habit of shapeshifting
of being a different person
in front of different people

don’t get me wrong

it’s been a great privilege
to play around with my personality
and be a chameleon

but on that stage
i was laid bare

there was no choice
but to strip away
the subconscious filters
and conscious indentations
i had become so used to
inhabiting

the truest version
an accurate
authentic depiction of myself
was put on display yesterday

and i loved it

thank you to all the beautiful humans
who made the trek
and celebrated my special day with me
or shall i say, our special day

-

these last few weeks have been
full of binary
although
there’s a line which cuts through
the boundary

and i can’t
get enough of it

-

what a gift
this life is

what a gift
you are
to me

keep being
you
i’ll keep being
me

-

life is so delicious

i’ll see you soon.

leep at esalen has been
the most beautiful month
of my life

here i experienced being held
in a profoundly gentle way

here i was listened to
without judgment

here i learned
often the only words i need
are none
to be witnessed is enough

here i was given
permission to be
and the opportunity
to get it wrong

here i was treated like an adult
cherished like a son
and met as an equal 

here i was allowed to break open
reframe
and begin again

after all
that’s how the light gets in

here i was made solid
unifying the chameleonic color palette of self
and found wholeness
and belonging
embodied
within

here the line between where i end
and the universe begins
became fuzzier

here i was treated like family

here i found home

thank you for this space
this moment
and this community

thank you for reuniting me
with the magic
i’ve always had access to 

a month at esalen
has tacked on years
to my alive-span 

and for that
i can’t thank you enough

my debut book
what’s real.
will be out on oct. 6
my 20th birthday

if you are in la
i’m doing a combined party
at my apartment
sign up here

i’ll see you in a week :)

it hurt to swallow
it sucked to speak
but i had to listen

woe is me!

there’s no audio version for this one
go figure

starting tomorrow
i’m headed offline for the next few month
to a retreat at esalen
where i’ll serve and study
in the foothills of big sur
with 15 random others

it’s a lot of talking

but how poetic is this!

my voice is my lifeline

i’ve relied so heavily
on my voice
to make up for my insecurities
and help me appear put together
even in days when the silence
might give it away

this time
i can’t speak my troubles away
i can’t silence my strife
this isn’t to say i’m struggling
let’s be honest
it’s a lot worse than that

these past 24 hours
have been devastating
so how does this feel?

no words could describe it
get it!

because i cAn’T SAy ANYthING

how beautiful is it?
that the day before the adventure
which i’d hoped
would redeem my experience
at a silence retreat this prior summer

the world wants me to shut up!

if this is a cosmic sign
then you best believe

I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT THIS!

as of the time this post is published
i am on day number three
of my time at esalen

i hope i’m speaking loudly
if not
there is a higher power

and it’s been watching me very carefully

see you in a month :)

i waited a long time for these
seven hours
twenty three minutes
and thirteen seconds

let’s start at the beginning

my uncle pushed me to start running
so i listened
bragged to my friends for six days
took a break on the seventh
and said i’d go for another run someday

i finally started running everyday
on april 20, 2020
420, pretty ironic, huh!

i started with one mile
bragged a little less
ran from my house to school once
and eventually ran my first 10k

i didn’t know what a kilometer was
until i started running
but it sure beat having to run 10 miles
that’s for sure

eventually
i went to college
i joined the ucla triathlon team
because the running club practiced in the evening
and found a home away from home
a family that wanted me to get stronger

i ran my first marathon a half a year later
and my first half ironman five months after that

i was on top of the world

and then i started to lose
silently

a long bike ride inflamed my knee
three months of heart-ache later
a long run inflamed the arch of my foot

patellar tendonitis
meet posterior tibial tendinopathy

i had planned to run a 55k
in april of my sophomore year
but i could barely walk without pain
let alone run

i skipped breakfast
because i didn’t feel like i deserved to eat
if i hadn’t worked out

without my anchor of discipline
i felt like i had failed
fundamentally

why did it matter
if it was out of my control?
but i was too tired to be reasonable

as i spiraled out of control
desperation took hold
i spent hours in the sauna
contemplating impermanence

soon i’d start moving again
and after watching my friends
run their first 55 without me
i decided it was time to come back

ultra boy summer had begun

i was still kinda injured
but i didn’t care

i struck out to run the hardest
race i had ever come across
a 50k in marin county
with over 6500 feet of vertical climb

i built back my fitness from nothing
to something

it was lonely
hot
and mentally the toughest training season
i had ever endured

was it rewarding?
sure

but was it fun?
this is a deeper question

i spent the last year
wondering what was missing in my life.

when i got injured
i didn’t just lose running
i lost my tribe

movement is about the people
the beautiful humans who
chide you when you’re tired
but carry you on their back anyways

i spent a lot of this summer
wondering why i wanted
to run longer
to attempt greater feats of endurance
why i cared at all

but it’s these people who’ve taught me
to become one with the world
to care for myself
that life is about more than the next step

i’d never have slowed down
if i hadn’t sped up to meet them

the next year of adventures i plan on chasing
will focus on these people

it’s time to relearn
how to move again
but this time
i won’t be alone.

i’ve been gifted
with very little negative energy in my life

specifically
there aren’t obscene amounts of insults
or badmouthing
that i’ve had to deal with

at least not that i know of

so when i opened up my tiktok
a few weeks prior
and got to witness a group of individuals
roast the vegan meat (a.k.a sh*t) out of me

IT STUNG!

i know how little i should care
how meaningless negativity is
and how without access to total context
one should never completely decide
whether they loved my work
or wished i’d have acted in a silent film instead
(the internet is home to some very creatively worded insults!)

but jacob collier makes a great point
when he tells us
“disgusting is more interesting than bland
if people don't like it, it's a sign you're doing something interesting
the least engagement somebody could give you is disinterest
if they give you anything more, you're provoking something
stimulating any response is a positive action, in fact:
‘the opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference’
if someone feels a strong way about what you're making
it is distinct, it has an identity, and it's worth pursuing”

not everyone will like your work
but the fact that they engage with it is proof
that it made them stop and stare
and at the very least, take a moment to think

that should be enough
for us to know
that we did our job
after all
what else should we do?
stop?

nah
that’s a little too bland for me.

our personalities and preferences are built from birth
larger weights are given to ideologies learned at the beginning
decreasing exponentially through adulthood
more nascent faiths are accepted and rejected
based on how heavily they lean into green or red
compared with the profundities of past.

so…

upon being asked our opinion on life or self
we should be expected to
yes,
provide an ingenious framework
but are our north stars novel?
or are they adapted from ideas
which have been
previously synthesized subconsciously?
ie. media and books absorbed over time

no idea is new
no human is either.

but probability dictates
that the same system
set with the same probabilities
is destined to make short run disagreements
but in the long run converge on an expected value.

for math,
this is the golden number
for life,
this is death.

to be clear
i am not advocating that our choices are
controlled by an external entity
simply that we are predictable
and the decision was made before the question was asked
and the probability of whether we went ahead with it or not
was given.

many humans claim supernatural powers
and psychic abilities from the future
they can foresee your future
or cure all of your ailments with a flick

most of their influence comes from impact
and,
granted
they have helped a lot of humans.

but they make me question
whether my curiosity to enter a similar path of work
propped up by sheer belief and a lack of data
is genuine
or predetermined.

purporting the sense
that i am no special creature
no more guaranteed success than an ant on a molehill.

all delusion is impression-created.

the stories of yesterday
influence the experiences of tomorrow.

yes
living in the moment is key.

but
we mustn’t forget
we didn’t choose to walk
in this specific direction.

in fact
none of us remember
when exactly we fell asleep last night either.

we were pushed by every past
choice and regret
nicety and dilemma
smile and frown.

perhaps this is why
knowing oneself is akin to knowing truth.

and perhaps this is why
knowing truth is often so fickle.

who’s dream are we inside of
right now?

-

most of my life i’ve been honest
i think.

i’ve told the truth about my feelings
and rarely searched to confound
or keep secret
the reality of it all.

for the first time in a while though
i find myself running away.

by refusing to acknowledge this shift
i don’t have to deal with it.

ignorance is bliss, right?
nah
ignorance is avoidance.

the longer i pretend i am not deeply confused
the longer i wait to abate my insecurities
not at least come to terms with them
the longer i avoid the tough questions
the longer i stay ignorant
the longer i stay asleep.

-

i’ve spent the better portion of this summer
flitting from one thing to the next.

canada to recovery
seattle to sickness
san francisco to los angeles.

how have i managed to compile
a month’s worth of memories
without asking a single question!

well let’s not dwell on what has passed.

presently
i don’t know what to ask
nor can i put my finger
on what i’m searching for 

-

the gift of a golden age
begins with luxury

and

continues
with indifference.

i mean
i guess i ought to figure out
how i’m going to make money
soon.

but how do i find out
where my value most truly lies
when
within my microcosm
i am the sole proprietor of my mania
the sole provider of perplexity
and the arbiter of true and false.

how do i connect with
the universe in silo from it
how do i help people
when i can’t even relate to myself?

-

i can't solve all my problems
by running longer distances.

-

so i lay my spirit bare
and ask you a single question

why?

because the closer i get to the answer
the further i get from the truth.

so i’ll continue to spout phrases
that del ay the decision
and cling to words and phrases
that keep me anchored in the world.

-

did i enjoy writing this
because it meant something?

or do i just think confusing people
and typing in lowercase
makes me cool?

-

tldr;
there’s been a lot of context switching in my life
and it has left me stretched out quite thinly.

training for my first 50k has left me exhausted
and time is moving way too quickly
for me to have space to ask guiding questions.

so i dive deeper into my messy room
and read more and more fantasy
until the present
becomes the promised land they told me it was.

but trust me
there is no “them”
there is only you and me
and our story.

-

my debut book of poetry
”what’s real.”
will come out
sometime mid august.

if you’re in the bay area
let me know if you’d like an invite
to the release party.

appreciate you all
hope you’ve been well :)

what wall are you climbing?
what hope do you cling to?
is it love? god? or is it life itself?

the world is full
of what’s in front of you
an apparition of particles
made mostly of emptiness
their collapse is imminent
it’s necessary

to wake up
you must put part of you to rest
the one that prevents you
from moving forward
but what stops you
from questioning the reality
emergent from your death?
what stops you
from waking up again
into a place of uncertainty?
a place so real
it feels foreign
feigned

you ask yourself
where are you now?
who are you now?
did you ever really care
in the first place?

so as the voice ceases its reign
and the demons return to their caves
imagine a ball of light
drenching you with its rays
wake up again
see through the display
and as you’re blinded by the brilliance
return once more

you are well on your way

what’s real.

a collection of poetry, out july 31st

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