Past “Me”s

You know where I woke up today?

The West Coast, United States.

 The place where I really learned to drive, where I worked and started to be an adult as I barely slid into my teens, the place where I fell in love, or so I thought, with a young boy who was much to immature and unready for any type of relationship, the place where I had my first bonfire at a beach, a smore! 

Where I sang anonymously in the dark and where I felt I had nothing to do but live and be happy for it. 

Where I met the man who truly should have been my father and where I then was told he passed. 
Where I learned to be young again and to drive and drive and sing at the top of my lungs, where I had friends, a home, my own room albeit another foldout bed situation, where I took care of everyone else and where I could be counted upon to show up, take you there and pick you back up. Where I cooked, cleaned, worked and studied at my church. 
Where I could pretend I belonged to a family and forget that even they couldn’t really deal with me. Where I learned to detach myself from emotions and where I stopped thinking deep. Where I disconnected from myself and enjoyed a surface life, a life where it was easy to be simple and not wonder if there was more, although more was certainly coming. 

I was so young and different when I last lived here and this morning at half past 6, it smells just the same as last November, exactly 10 years ago and I want to tell myself that I am happy, that I can live like that again, that even if I changed, even if this is not the same cold, crisp, cutting oxygen into my warm, moist and expanding lungs and this is not 10 years ago, or even 3 years ago in a harsh NY winter, or 2 in a hot humid December or this year across the world on an island with winds you’ve never even heard of. 

No, today is none of those days, and I am none of those past “me”s.
But perhaps, if I clear my mind, if I think of no past, no present, no future and focus on the coldness of the room, the bright light of early morning and think of nothing more, perhaps I could be happy.

I and I think that would be a fine first step. 

Dark nights plane ride

Twenty Five

I spent the last day as a twentyfive year old cursing human nature and her horrible idea to ravage my entire body with pain every month just so I can be reminded that my uterus is unoccupied, as that is apparently the only goal in life for a body; the reproduction of etc.

Not only that but in the span of 59 seconds I got up, dropped my humongous cell phone on my foot, cut my calf on the guillotine life steel protrusion of my fold away bed and burned my hand while pouring boiling water inside the rubberized plastic hot water bottle I got up to get to ease the slashing cramps in my abdomen in the first place.

When I got back to bed I was almost chuckling if it hadn’t shot another jolt of pain up my diaphragm. Why is it so harsh?! …”Jiminy Crickets” I pant in a G-Rated murmur.

Oh well; the morning is spent that way. The rest I sip on hot tea, try to do some work, watch whatever Netflix has dished out for me today. It feels like I should have a proper burial. My life is always so choreographically, catastrophically improbable I don’t even feel twenty-five years have passed; I must be at least forty by now. But a quick head count and a certainty that these years are all proof of a very young life stops the meandering self reflection and allows me to focus on the deadline I’m trying to make.

Sometimes I speak to my mother and we talk of myself, my efforts and adventures, how I miss her and she me and how surreal it seems to be doing what I am doing. She is right to say that we should applaud what is to be applauded even if it isn’t the culmination of the show or the credits but she also knows me well enough to sense my restlessness for the way things aren’t yet at the culminating point. Twenty five years and I am not where I wanted to be, in fact, I am now in New Zealand, far from everything I know and literally a day ahead of everyone I know, dying of cramps and, unbeknownst to me until later this night, burning my tender stomach skin with the hot water bottle that is fighting to melt off some of the cramping pain I have to put up with today.

I’ve learnt so much more about myself than I ever thought I could in only six months away (and counting). I have traveled and lived elsewhere plenty, although never for a career like this, and I am proud of my efforts and not at all shocked really that out of all things this is the infinite improbable scenario I’ve found myself in. But as fun as it is, as trying as it is, as terrifying, saddening, lonely, core shaking and character building (as if I need more character), I still feel unresolved and unfulfilled because I haven’t built my own Magrathea or saved a planet from being destroyed to make way for an intergalactic highway we do not need. I want more adventure, more achievement, more difference, and less cramps please, if possible.

It seemed rather bleak though while I epilogued my twenty-five years of age. That year I gained more diffidence in myself, I lost faith in a lot of people and in most men with their intentions in business, life and even love. I learned that I’m still “socially unacceptable” and that I do not think it will ever be different for me and that I still cannot accept that, I learned that I love certain people more than they love me and it doesn’t matter and that I love some so much more than that, that nothing else can phase me. I also learned that I have changed majorly, that I am catapulting myself daily to higher grounds and abilities even if I cannot see it for myself right away.

So; I turned twenty six. I have a small burn blister on the side of my abdomen, I am far away from everything and everyone, I have not achieved the state or level I want to achieve in this life and for the next couple of days every time I pee it looks like there’s been a small murder scene investigation in my bathroom.

I can look forward to completing my projects this year and visiting my friends and family in the U.S before heading off to the next adventure and the next time my uterus decides to torment me after another failed reproductive cycle. In truth I have an unspoken fear that this will all be for naught; that I am spending all this time away from the people I love and from perhaps doing something that is much more important than “climbing the star ladder”. I keep telling myself that I will make great impact, that it will all be the right thing, that if there is someone who invented destiny then I am part of that, that I was surely meant to be…but a lot of people think that right? Are we all correct or are we all megalomaniacs? Or are we correct megalomaniacs too afraid to act?

I thought I’d have it all figured out by now but I think after this last twentyfifth year of life and a bit more exploration of this world and its people, I might have more doubts and questions than I started with and that I remain, even to myself, the most infinitely improbable being here, and that I wish a lot of things.

The Day I Stopped Working For A Living

The day I left that office I didn’t cry. Truthfully I, and probably anyone else who knew the amount of trouble I’ve had on that job, was not expecting me to. The people I didn’t get along with ducked out without saying so much as a Merry Christmas. The ones who couldn’t help but be somewhat connected, due to having to work so closely with me for years, gave a chaste hug and well wishes. It was sort of a tacit consent to not feel so torn because I was leaving. “We don’t have to care, but we should be socially acceptable at least”. It seemed fair. I felt the same.

I walked through the office and by everything. I wanted to sort of feel a connection to the walls or the desks or computers but I just couldn’t quite get it. I was leaving this office with a clean, almost clinical, stance. My presence will not permeate the walls. My ways will not be ingrained into the very fabric of the company. I leave everything clean and ready to be used by someone else, in their own way, to their own ends.

And for myself; Now I hope this day marks the last day of this life where I work for a living. I hope this is the last day where I compromise my integrity and swallow my disappointment for not being able to BE who I am and DO what I do.

I wish the extreme and very best to all. But I sincerely hope to, and am working towards, never working another day in my life.

Because when you’re working on your dreams and allowing yourself to BE yourself…well;

You’re not working at all now are you?

The Dragon Keeper

-Listening to: “You” by Nils Frahm


Books and Infinite Improbabilities

oh the power of a good book and a hot cup of tea

Captain of My Own Ship

On my flight back I felt empty. Not bad. But like a husk. That anger, that fear, stress, upset, longing and frustration – it was gone. Subdued. Only left a bruise where there was once a constant banging. Now I feel like I just finished weathering a very rough storm. Where I didn’t think I was going to make it. Where I even forgot where I was sailing. The sun is not out but I can see it above the clouds. It’s there. The thunder is long distant now moving farther and farther to bother someone else. My heartbeat is thumping down, my breath evening out. It’s been a long while now since I felt a nice, comforting warmth in my chest. As I take note of this slowdown I realize it. I made it. I held on. I screamed and cried and cursed at the sky, I almost drowned, I almost gave up and welcomed sinking. I lost myself. I lost my way and I lost the helm. I blamed myself for sailing, I blamed another for mutiny, for the hell of a storm I saw coming in the distance. But again. I really made it. I sailed it and I realize that this was so much more, so much bigger than another. It was something I set out for. There was no crew. It was meant to be solo. And now I remember. I remember there’s a lighthouse lighting my way. There’s a harbor where I can drop my anchor. And when I step off, firm foot on that dock, and walk in this new place, meet new people, start new adventures, make new decisions, learn new things; I will do it – but I will do it, as captain of my own ship.

The Conductor of Universes

Some people are meant to be the conductors, the brave ones, the menders. They’re meant to take care of what’s not right, not just be part of a passive, causeless audience. They inquire, they don’t care about invading privacy to set things right. To be that person is not easy, but in the end you’re the one on that stage, you’re the creator of their universes, and because you are who you are, they will all be incredible.

I’ve Had You So Many Times

Soundtrack – Damien Rice “9 Crimes”


I had a dream about you 3 weeks ago. It’s not uncommon, you’ve been an ingredient in my subconscious for over 10 years. You and your girlfriend were over. It was odd.

The thought festered though and I began to wonder if it was true. It was entertaining to think about as my life is less than exciting right now. I wondered if you would have the guts to talk to me again, just talk. I wasn’t thinking about heartbreak. I was just thinking that she would have broken up with you and that would be that. That no one, somehow, would be heartbroken.

I found out tonight that you and her really are over. I actually dreamt of something that really happened. I don’t want to think we’re that connected. We are not. Apparently though, you broke up with her. You idiot. This isn’t what I wanted. I don’t want another girl to be upset.

To be clear – I don’t want you back. I don’t think you do me either. I think we know better now. The 5th time won’t be the charm. We should have stopped plenty before. We should have never been probably. I don’t regret you but we really could have skipped number 2,3 and 4 don’t you think?

You were just a large part of my life. When someone reaches the 10 year mark then they can take over. But right now, you just happen to have the largest ratio of time and memories with me.

I was never your most important. I wasn’t “the one that got away”.  It doesn’t hurt to know that. It just is that way. We just grew up together. We experienced some things for the first time together but I wasn’t the most important.

I will never forget you but I think sooner rather than later, you’ll be a much more distant memory and someone else will have tipped the scales. You will no longer be the biggest ratio.

I don’t have any emotion for you. Not bad, not good. It’s just you and it’s just me. I know you better than anyone and yet almost not at all. I have met you so many ways, worked, lived and traveled with you multiple times, been with you and against you, sang with you the song I’m listening to, made love to you, ran from you, stuck to you, let you go – plenty.

I have had you so many times and I can’t remember a single one.

Quick Saffron Rice

Made some delicious saffron rice – thought I’d share it.


– 1 cup of Jasmine Rice (very deliciously fragrant)

– 2 cups of water

– 1 knob of butter (the better the butter the better – now say that 5 times fast)

– 1 teaspoon of saffron (most expensive spice in the world…living in the lap of luxury now aren’t we?)

– 1/4 of a teaspoon of kosher salt if your butter was already salted otherwise 1/2 teaspoon of kosher salt…if you’re going to use normal table salt for some reason (kosher is the greatest) then use 1/4 and then salt to taste later because I have a feeling it’ll be too salty using 1/2 tsp.

-1/2 a yellow onion chopped into medium chunks (however you want it really because you’ll end up eating it but it will just get mixed up in the rice)


1. Put a saucepan or very small pot on high heat and pour the rice and butter there until the butter melts and you stir it through. You do not want the butter or rice to brown just warm it up a bit.

2. Pour water, salt, saffron and onion pieces in and bring to a boil.

3. Once at a boil reduce heat so everything is simmering and put a lid on it

4. Depending on your heat and size of the pot the rice will cook in about 15 to 25 minutes. Do not make it cook to a mush. Even slightly undercooked is better. Check it by eating a little grain after 15 minute (don’t burn yourself please).

5. Turn the heat off and leave the lid on. After 15 minutes all the water should have been absorbed and you can use a fork to fluff your rice (which should be tinted yellow from your awesome saffron).

I served mine with sautéed courgettes and it was deeeeeelicious.

I got a little extra fancy on my second serving the next day (split the rice in 2 portions) and put some toasted pine nuts in it and some golden raisins…mmmmmm


Week 1 – Day 3 (Kayla Itisness 12 Week Bikini Body Guide)

I made it back home….alive-ish

Currently eating some saltines and sipping some room temperature water….

My arms were so weak I couldn’t lift my keys up to the door for 30 minutes right after the gym.

I knew tonight would have been a challenge because my arms are the weakest part of me, always have been (never ever could master the monkey bars in school or at the park – just climbed everything but I guess my legs were the real strength source).

I got through 1 and 1/2 of the entire workout. Not bad considering I only got through 1/2 of the first day when I was doing legs/cardio…which, by the way, completely destroyed my legs in the sense that I literally whimpered loudly and uncontrollably every time I had to sit down for the past 2 days (to pee for example) or stand up (from my office chair – humiliating). I didn’t walk like I took it up the ass though (sorry to be crude here) so that’s a sort of personal win.

I tried stretching, putting arnica cream 5 times throughout the day, hot, cold, massaging…still painful….sigh I thought I was in shape damn it. I better regain the ass of a life time with this.

Anyways – these workouts make me feel like I want to puke right in the middle of them and about 2 hours after. I don’t know how to fix this. I drink water before, not a lot during so I don’t get sick, I don’t eat right before…I’m definitely pushing myself too hard but not sooooo badly. I mean I feel like puking but there hasn’t actually been any ejection…although sometimes throughout the workout I kind of wish it would just happen if it would cure the horrible nausea and headache I feel. I must be doing something wrong but I don’t know what.

Oh and also I found out apparently I cannot do a sit up without putting my feet under something and using my legs really to pull me up…basically rendering the whole sit up, working out your ab muscle thing, pointless. What the flip right?!

And I confirmed my vague thoughts about not being able to really do a full push up…I dip about 3 inches down max (don’t judge me).

I hope this entire workout isn’t just going to be me bitching, bitching, bitching…at the same time that’s almost what I use this blog entirely for – muahahhaha

Tomorrow we will see if I am able to use my arms. If I can’t drive or type or pick things up…I will not go to work, I swear…so I doubt this will happen.

I’m guessing, and truly hoping, that by doing as much as I can on each workout, I will slowly build up to being able to work out without feeling like death and slowly build some more muscle in my arms and legs and abs so I don’t have such a hard time…I believe this is what exercise is supposed to do but knowing me – anything could happen lol I

I don’t want to just go back to my running routine – although pleasant I don’t think it will so much anymore to just run without any strength training…and I’ll probably injure myself again.

I’m about to dose myself with magnesium to relax my muscles and hopefully sleep.