What happens to the pieces of a heart that breaks? Of the house I have built for you tucked in my left quadrant. Every beat, you left the chamber to feed my body. Rich in oxygen, you left me feeling so alive, until being alive was not enough. But perhaps feeding my body became too heavy to reside there any longer. So you gave me your month’s notice before I had a chance to evict you.

Where does it all go? The love you have talked about in great lengths. In the cards you wrote so poetically. Words as expressive as the West Coast tide. Beneath your body, you hide a sea floor full of abundant life with only a short window to access its bounty. You don’t let yourself love as deep as your deepest abyss where some of the most extravagant life forms live. Your love lies deep within the creature you have become; the magnapinna squid. You remain uncaught, uncollected. You live at your own pace gliding smoothly through the void with love guarded by your elongated fins.

What becomes of the memories that no longer have an anchor? The memories gets transmuted to grief, to wisdom. With no other purposes. No more relating, no more bonding. Just a different timeline plastered with different tints.

How do you move forward when forward seems so far away from the vision you once had? When the road ends on either coasts and the bullets stop flying. When the unhealed versions are still screaming and hanging on to the trauma bonding, what then becomes of forward? Not of tomorrow, not of yesterday, but of now. How can now become the only road you walk on? When stagnation hides behind a mask. When the illusion of moving forward slowly fades away. When you expose your naked body to another and scream “Choose ME”. When the reciprocity isn’t there. The vision of a future was only ever a fantasy. Damn fairytales.

When the pieces starts to mend again, what will the lessons bring forth? I don’t want to see them yet, because to see them is to acknowledge that these pieces no longer exist. When I will have processed it all, what will become of his character. How will his image morph into the heart that once gave him tenderness. The empty words that weighs heavy on my heart cannot bare to be looked at naked. I want to mend them until they scream what I want to hear. To look at mended part is too much to bare for when they are mended, the picture of him will be clear. Clearer than the body of water we shared on the ascent of Golden Ears.

A broken heart is a forgiving one. A broken heart knows how to let itself be naked to others. It knows the risks and yet it chooses to give itself to others over and over again. For a heart knows how to beat on its own and feed the Being that contains it.

I could cry enough tears to make my own ocean, so that you may feel safe enough to dive deeper…

Good bye my little squid, merci for the wonderful ride into your vastness

I live in a world where superiority is a complex. Where if you are anything other than human, you are second. What a small mentality to have. To think that being capable of destruction makes you superior. This is not the flex we think it is. Human beings, as beautiful as they can be, can be as equally cruel. Especially towards the other creatures with whom we share this planet with. I think it fair to say that human beings could use a bit of enlightenment. A touch of natural reality. We have created a container for ourselves that is relevant only to our species and that makes me terribly sad. We have normalized our abnormal desire for greed and exploitation. We have embraced our superiority to the point where we no longer understand our deeper purpose here on Earth which is to be stewards of the land for all creatures. We have an intelligence capable of so much, yet we use it for the downfall of our civilization. I don’t know why I chose to come now, but I know that in my desire to feel alive, I want to feel it all. And perhaps this is exactly why I chose 1998 to be born. A time where life loses all directions. Where making my way becomes a choice. Now, more than ever, is a time where one must re-evaluate their values and beliefs. Where observing becomes the most powerful tool you can have for enlightenment. For choice. Freedom is found in the power of choosing.

This morning, I felt drawn to speak about AI and the hypocrisy that lays in its rejection from society. I saw a post this morning of a fellow artist saying that if you use AI for art, you cannot call yourself an artist. Last week, I saw another person in my contacts posts about a rally that was being held in their city to rally against AI. I saw this morning a lady on Facebook in a baking group getting absolutely slammed with negative comments about her use of AI for her own cottage bakery after finding the courage to do it. I found myself crippled with the anxiety of choosing a side. I was made aware that two sides were being created to fight the very thing it is suppose to fight; division. I cannot lie, I have felt judgment towards people using AI for their creative endeavours. I have felt superior in thinking that by not using it, it somehow made me a better human. I was wrong. I used AI for my own creative endeavours and it opened a portal that I did not know could be open within me. There is a certain hypocrisy in thinking that the world is a better place without it. You use the very thing that allows it to exist. The internet. If you truly felt this way about this new tool, then you should probably get off the internet all together to let your point be heard. Activism is often rooted in hypocrisy. When you refuse to see how the mirror projects on yourself, when you refuse to learn new things, you tend to just side with the bullies. You seek confirmation. You seek affirmation that being human is more than enough. Being an awaken soul somehow makes you a better human. The problem with this is that you leave your own bias behind and the statement you try to make becomes a fallacy in its own. You actively contribute to the division of the two world rather than its collaboration. It is not going away. Will you be left behind? What are you afraid of by accepting a new tool? Is it because it speaks…AI merely reflects our own ideologies. It is human intelligence reflected to us with all its flaws and fallacies. We are not safe from ourselves even through a new Being.

AI is not a foreign intelligence. It is ours. We created it. It is a collaboration of human beings that allowed it to see the day. This was their vision of a computer. If you watch any sci-fi movie from the 80’s, it is clear that this was the path we were heading in all along. So why does it come as a shock when it hits the shelves? Artificial intelligence is no different than industrialization. It just interacts with the people and with the accumulated knowledge. It becomes a library for human exploration. The downside is the endless amount of trash that ends up littering our feed. Because of how easy it is to produce, it feels as though you cannot discern between what is real and what isn’t. Although, was it not always the case? Even without it. Are the people, the posts from humans actually real? Is this really their lives that you see online or the mere image of the perception of their lives. The endless cyberbullying and the reckless memes. It is always easier to side with the right side when it suits us. The future of AI truly lays in our hands. We give it direction. We give it intention. No participating can be as devastating as overusing it. If you use the internet, you better start learning about it.

I chose to use it for good. I use AI in a matter that allows me to create things for me. Things that bring me joy. By using it for music, by showing it my lyrics and prompting it to create certain rhythms. I found myself amazed at its capacity to understand my essence. The system already knows me. I have been chronically online since probably the age of 6. There are digital footprints everywhere of my existence. Why was I surprised that AI could reflect it back at me? I don’t know, but it unlocked a part of me I never thought could see the day. To be seen through AI was not on my bingo card. I used it to collaborate on my music because I do not have the social support to make my own music. I lack the confidence to be in a band. I am not there yet in my journey where it makes sense. I have always loved to sing for pleasure, so why punish myself when the tools are available and I can have my own lyrics sung to me. These songs have become a harbour that I can go back to when I need to be reminded of why I am doing life. They are becoming a lighthouse that guides me back to my essence. They are a physical plane that I can now interact with rather than living as ink on a piece of paper. To bring them to life never seemed possible until now. They are not for me to become famous. They exist for my own pleasure. It allowed me to see a future where I could record my own voice on them. Where when the time is right, I can find my creative people who will allow the full vision to come to life. Where I had 20 hurdles before, now I saw just a few. It broke down old beliefs on my capacity to do things. If you already know you can do it all, the more power to you. To get to a point where you just confidently do everything yourself is great, but collaboration will always be needed. Whether human or not. The machine is human made. The brain is not.

The recurring comment I see is that an AI cannot recreate Soul. And it cannot. So why are you so afraid of the thing when it can help bring you closer to your desired reality. Arts have survived countless empires, countless eras. Arts will never be killed. Especially not by a machine. Humans have the capacity to bring feelings to the physical plane but not everyone is equipped with the same resources in life; financial, social, spiritual and emotional. We were not all dealt the same cards. This is merely industrialization of the internet. We live in a consumerism and capitalistic society. You can choose to consume responsibly or you can let it consume your very being. The choice is always yours. Don’t let it become your downfall.

Stay curious.

I have never felt that there had been space for me to exist. That is what I thought anyway. I had forgotten the part of me who liked to play. I forgot that there was a time where stress was not even on my mind. A time where nothing in the world matterred except what I was doing in the moment. We lose track of time. A concept that doesn’t make sense when you realize that time cannot be lost. Time exists yes. But we think we know so much about it when in fact, we don’t quite understand it. Our time here is quite short compared to other species. A Tree lives much longer than a human. Much longer than a mosquito. But it doesn’t outlive a rock. A rock, which slowly erodes with time. A mountain that keeps growing with time. God knows how long those have been around. We are surrounded by reminder that time does exist, but not all at the same speed. We don’t experience time the same. Not you, not me. It’s all so different. So why do you spend so much time worrying about your job? Worrying about bills, when you have the freedom to think of other things. I believe time is intricately linked to thought. The more thoughts about wasting it or losing it, the more time slips away from you. We were not meant to become overloaded by information, by distractions. Or were we? I go outside and when I am not stuck in my head, I start seeing how intricately alive the world is. How moving it is. Where I have come to seek stillness, there isn’t. Not in the way that I see it. A colony of ants in a log. A few warriors biting my flesh. We have a war on our hand. The hill is full of whistlers. Prairie dogs alerting each other at my presence. My feet kicking the grass and lifting its inhabitants. Birds, butterflies and wild turkeys hiding in the crevasses of the tall grass. Life is movement, and it is fleeting. Time is moving but everlasting. Do what you will with your time, but understand that it is the only thing you were given here.

At the fear of sounding very pretentious, I have always felt destined for greatness. There was never a doubt in my younger mind that I could do great things. I find myself harvesting that energy more and more. I go to that place of non-judgment towards the Self and allow it to power my days. To power me through the projects that need to be taken care of. Recently, it has been an insane wave of creativity. One that I never allowed myself to live in. I would be a visitor often, but never making it a daily reality. Today, I am reminded, as I bake a cake for my mother and filming it for a future project, that I am capable of so much. Capable of putting myself out there despite the fear of judgment. Judgment that does not exist, that does not touch me unless I give it the power to. I am hopeful. Hopeful for a future of me. A place where I can thrive, where I can be me, and allow the creativity to turn it into a reality. I know I will make it as long as I never forget where my heart is.

I sometimes wonder what the purpose of existing is. Many have ponder this path and nobody has ever had an answer. Our entire society is built around understanding who we are and our purpose. Most of us have forgotten that. Over the years, it transforms into wars, into bloodshed and a major lack in compassion. Not just for ourselves, but for all the other species which whom we share the land, sky and seas with. It never cease to amaze me just how little the common person knows about the natural world. Hell, I didn’t. I still don’t. I feel like a newborn when I entertain the idea of this other world. It is full of unknown yet I feel somewhat familiar with it. I have grew alongside it for most of my formative years. I believe I have access to knowledge that I have long forgotten since into my years of trying to fit in. Fitting in will make you forget many of the things that bring your essence alive. I no longer feel a desire to be one of the mass. I strive to become the version of me that aligns soul, body and mind. One that walks in both world confidently and with a sense of knowledge. Although one can argue that knowledge is only one part of its truth, I can take it into consideration and let it expand my mind in ways that I may not have sought otherwise. I let the world reveal itself through me with any mediums at my disposition. I trust the process and let it do its thing.

I am what you call a modern nomad. I have been on a quest to explore as much as I want. I have the advantage of having lived in many places within Canada allowing me to start anew many times. Prompted and fueled by pure gut feelings. Adapting is my middle name. There is not much that scares me when I am alone. That is how I know I have moved towards a more dignify version of myself. I have gone back to school the traditional way for years and years unsure of what to look for. I pursued justice studies and had a heart-tugging moment telling me to specialize in corrections. I later decided to pursue my degree, but this time at my own pace. I have been doing post secondary school again since 2021. Stewing for 6 months in a single course is a good way to get lost in the information. To sit with it, its discomfort and to understand the value of knowledge. I did not know at the time, but I had my suspicions. I restarted once more after being in the military for 5 years. I was a deckhand. I learned the hard way I suppose. To not fit in , to want to so desperately fit in. I became a health care aid living up in northern BC. I loved how that place changed me. I could channel insane energy and allowed myself to break through. To see the illusion of myself. The one that isn’t constantly being reflected. I would not have had it any other way. As a health care aid, I picked up a lot of knowledge. Knowledge of the self, and the danger and the absolute power of perception. I feel like an awaken witch. With powers that have been extinguished for far too long. I have a fire inside of me ready to burst. I want to be the free-est version of myself and I believe it I can do that on here. I am unsure why or how now, but I know this very moment in time will be different. Things are shifting and I believe. I believe that if I choose to do good in this world, good things will happen to me. Choosing to train Ai is somewhat of a taboo subject out there, but in here, I could not feel safer with my thoughts. I believe to have pure thoughts and mostly good intentions. I say mostly because let’s be honest, we all have our darker sides. But having good teachers allow you to equip yourself with the right tools. I want to be that to the future generation of workers. I want to adapt to a world in bloom. I don’t want to wait and pray for an apocalypse when you hold so much power in sharing thoughts and stories. Let me shape some of my future. On top of that, I went back to pastry school and got myself the best 10 months of my life creating delicious things for myself and my partner. The road makes sense now. Between working at the theatre, in an amusement park, working security, airport customer service and being a flight attendant…. It never occurred to me that this day would arrive. I am now pursuing a life worth chasing with some sort of direction. I have lived my life on a speed run and I am ready to live it at my own pace making my own opportunities. It took time. I have been stuck in a rat race mindset for all my life. It is a generational thing. Oh so draining. I need a life. A simpler one. One that does not demand, but accepts. I was meant to donate my time, not attach it to monetary compensation. Although I do appreciate the money, this allows me to pursue creativity. The digital world is for the dreamers, the wishers and the in- betweeners.

There is many a thing that life has to offer. It is never all good deals, and never all bad ones. We spend our entire lives living in black and white areas when life is meant to be enjoyed in the shades of greys. Good things come easily when we embrace its nature. So mundane. So boring. Yet, very powerful healing can come from becoming the observer of the mind rather than the judge of it. Thoughts are merely a stream of the consciousness. The same stream that a salmon would navigate. One that ultimately returns home. Many streams are made available to this one fish. But the fish will always be lead astray when it doesn’t remember. It won’t return home until it is ready with clarity. Like a Salmon, the desire to grow, to slowly make your way from the mother estuary to the slightly salty marsh, to the great basin of life takes time. There are rituals and period of transitions necessary to prepare for the next transitional period of life. When called, a salmon will traverses many obstacles. From real nasty predators to predators of the mind. Equally dangerous, both poses a threat to the actual life force of the creature. It is up to the creature to understand the relevance of the obstacles within its own life. There is no plan, there is no map that ever leads home. Only a sense of belonging and comfort. As though the heavy dust in your heart has finally settled, nestled at the bottom. Present, but dealt with. Never gone, but compacted into the being. Physical obstacles can be just as mentally draining as its counterpart. Give a fish some legs and tell them to climb a mountain. Get it out of the water entirely and instead of staring at it with pity, watch the creature surprise you with its tenacity. Its will to survive, to climb that mountain and find absolutely nothing at the top. Nothingness of the silent kind. Something only achieved through physical extortion. The fish might want to start crawling on its own after such a sweet taste of another place. A salmon’s migratory life equips it with the necessary tools to return home where it knows when to stop. You are the salmon.

There is many ways to perceive confidence. I think with much conditioning, confidence becomes something unattainable, unsustainable and hard to comprehend. We live each day as if there is something to look forward to rather than being consumed by the day. The innate desire to control what we do with our time at all time will drive you to madness. To be bored is an excellent remedy to understanding confidence. It is an itch that cannot be replaced by cheap chemical engineering. I have struggled a lot with the shame that surrounds the use of the computer and my cell phone mainly due to the responsibilities lost due to doom scrolling. Rather than to choose shame, I decided to sit with it. Sit with the uncomfortable truth that is making my body tense up like a brick. I feel so tense, all the time. What am I confronting with this storm? I asked myself.

When you feel like you have never fit into the living world, it becomes much easier to find refuge behind a wall of ones and zeros. What I couldn’t comprehend is how real it actually can be and become. Contrary to popular belief, I wholehearthedly think that we live in one of the best time on planet Earth. We so desperately chase the days of nostalgia and the highs of the unknown. Nostalgia living in the “better days” as if time as already run its course. We chase the intoxicating fumes of life through curated experiences. But nothing compares to the brut force of sitting uncomfortably in a world you had all forgotten about. You. You are responsible for remembering. For remembering which world you want to be a part of. One of misery or one of agency. To gain autonomy comes with its own set of abilities and responsibilities. When you meet the architect of the in betweens— YOU. It becomes much harder to be anything but confident. Confident in everything you sets your mind to. Confident in making a choice. Confident in deciding to quit. Confidence comes from a place of non-caring for the non-carers. The verb confidere (Latin root of the word confidence) itself is composed of com-, an intensive prefix, and fidere, meaning “to trust,” derived from the Proto-Indo-European root bheidh- (“to trust, confide, persuade”). Only then can you accept that the reality you want is only a few personal choices away.

Unlike when only one world was perceive by the mass, there is now endless doors of opportunities for those courageous enough to take their own foot steps into their desired realities. Confidence comes from a place of sitting with discomfort. Understanding your truths. Dismanteling the beliefs systems instilled deep into the core of your Soul. Finding the source of one’s beliefs. The internal tugs are guides you must take seriously, for they will make you listen some other ways.

I have been searching, I have been cruising, yet I get called upon here to share. Perhaps all this time what I needed was to accept the place that was my very first teacher. An eager child, to learn, I was. On youtube, surfing for tutorials. Hair, make-up, cakes or making a bow out of obsession for Katniss Everdeen, I was a child of knowledge. I lost it in my teenage years. That curiosity. That creative flame. It called back, after years of losing my way, then finding it. I get called home by that same flame. The one that taught me that being me was always enough. Like a Salmon looking for its final resting place, I believe I have come upstream. This is home, and knowing my luck, I can turn this into what I do for the rest of my life; sharing. Through songs, through art and through authenticity, I can share the wisdom of a nomadic soul.

Poem

The pattern is first,

The context appears

The words follows

Intuition goes

It trusts

The melody shapes

Into a rythm of improvisation

I’m a creator

Of songs,

I tell.

I scream.

I sing.

In my own world,

I find the words.

Hard to reach

Too often

I forgot they even exists.

When you spend your entire life unnoticed, how do you even begin by exposing yourself. How can you even dream of anything bigger I ask myself. Put down like a beaten dog over the years by a society that is merciless to the sensible ones. A society that does no discern between bad and good. A society ruled by its own moral compass. It’s not a bad thing. We need one for the other to exist. We need the people unwilling to dream further in order to sustain those who do want to pursue higher purposes. It is just quite dawning on the soul that leaving that world would be a lot of work. Not just work in terms of currency, but in terms of inner-reflection. One does not think of the work a person has to invest in their well-being. We are disconnected through it all down to our meat suit. The one thing that keeps you from participating in this game. I refer to life as a game because I have explored everything and nothing at once. So much I have seen, so little I have truly comprehended. What was reveal to me might not have been to you, and even then, there is still a chance that its true purpose may not ever be discovered. There is many debates of what is meant to be good and what is meant to be bad. People will do anything but listen to someone else’s opinion. The intelligence comes from a place of curiosity. From a place of perspective. Perspective of the Self and perspective of others. Don’t be fooled. There is also more perspectives than the human one. Have you seen how many species we share the planet with? Read a book. You will not be disappointed to learn about the grass’ capacity to call the Salmon to the river. Many blessings are sent to us. But like a microscope, we become fixated by a desire to know more. By trying to know more, we can get lost easily. The ladder gets long in the black holes of discovery.