July 3rd, 2019

I have been writing in a journal, I’ll be selecting some stuff and transcribing it here as I do.

Hello! Recently I haven’t been writing much. I’m not sure if it’s because I don’t need to or I don’t want to. I think i’ve wanted to, but it’s been just as good for me to not. About 3 or 4 days ago, a friend and I talked about who we write for. I think we both write for the people that will happen upon it once we’re done with it. That’s who I write for at least. It’s for me, and it’s for you. I’m not sure who you are, or if this writing will make sense later on, but hey. Here’s to you. Hope you’re well.

Two things I’ve learned since my time started on this island:

1. Things take time

This is a simple statement but also a statement that I don’t think I truly embrace even to this moment. I was sitting on a yellow-soft grassy knoll with two boys from Spain the other day. As boats passed by about 100 feet from the shore, they moved away so much more quickly then the waves that crashed onto the shore. THe boat would pass, then about a half minute or more later, the waves would crash onto the rocks. Things take time. Emotionally, physically, spiritually. I have learned truly about my impatience in this aspect to my time here.

This is aforementioned knoll around dusk.

This is aforementioned knoll around dusk.

There is so much more I want to write and so much more I have been (kind of) trying to hol donto and remember. This brings me to the second thing i’ve learned while here: Letting Go.

Letting go, dropping baggage, throwing your rocks into the ocean. As a paperweight for the journal I’m writing in I have a rock. It is just a rock but i’ve put all my good into it. I’ve thrown my “bad rock” into the sea. And every time I think or feel of something good I find this rock and squeeze it so hard I think my fingers will break.

I used to have the mentality that unresolved issues would leave a sort of poison in me. A deep rooted seed of discontentment that, if not resolved, would sprout and develop into nastiness later on. So anytime I had an issue, physically, mentally, emotionally, I would drop everything and work to “resolve” the issue. Through communication or otherwise. I still think this is a healthy way to resolve things but I realized that the only way for this seed to sprout inside of me is if it was just that; inside of me. I would hold onto the unresolvable, I would not. let. go. Convinced that the only way to get rid of it was to uproot the very dirt of my being. It never occurred to me that I could simply walk to another pasture.

What Hands

Staring at the silky waves and sweating through my button up, I realized that there was a fence in front of me.

What bands cut these posts? What force carved out these chunky, aged, moldy wooden slabs that have withstood decades of weathering to provide a sense of security for those of us who have sat on this peak?

What pain was in the thrusts of the axe? What subconscious memories of trauma and anguish provided the effort needed to swing that heavy blade? Whose hands, bloodied and bruised, calloused and steeled?

Or maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just a person. Empty of mind. Clear of thought. Swinging away and building this fence. Maybe they’re sitting on their porch in Utah. Having long since forgotten about their once monumental swings.


Remember This.

Remember this.

When times have changed, as they always do. 

When it feels like one thing, one person, one issue is bigger than the world.

When it feels like hope has dwindled, and patience has lost its validity.

Remember the freedom, the free time, the full sky, the deep breaths.

The good times, the ones that are over. 

It’s alright that they’re over. Time stretches and bends to make space for more.

These are the thoughts I had when I was driving to Anacortes to get on the ferry to Orcas Island. I was thinking about what I would do if I was given an ultimatum by a partner, friend, or life. I have to think about this more, but for now I think this seed is enough.

To My Friends

My friends are beautiful people.

It’s surreal how people, given even a couple weeks, can create between them a sensation of true connection that will last through time and space. 

My friends are kind. My friends are true. My friends disagree with me in healthy ways. 

My friends give me memories of moments that muster up emotions far from what I can achieve on my own. And I can achieve a lot on my own.

Some of my friends are far. Some are even forgotten. That’s alright, all of us can be forgiven.

To all of my friends. Thank you. So much.


A rough draft on what we love

On doing what we love - Incomplete thoughts written in six rapid minutes in a rainy car

There has always been a small percent of people that are much better off than the rest of the population. I’m pretty sure this is unequivocally one of if not the most prosperous times in human history for that small percentage. The amount of people in that percentage has grown and the quality of life for that small percentage is extremely high. If you took any one person in that percentage and took them back even just two hundred years we would be living like or better than Kings. Running water, flushing toilets, cars, electricity. If you took the people’s quality of life at a perfect ratio, the true King’s would be the people making or worth like 400 million a year or 1 billion dollars.

I feel like we’re being sold an illusion, to chase our dreams and do what we love. Is there a difference between doing what we love and loving what we do? 

What do we even love to do? What does that even mean? I feel like for the most part we love the simple things, from rich to poor, just walking in the grass with the sun in your shoulders, most important is the peace of mind. I think we all just want some peace of mind with what we’re doing with our lives. With life in general. What life does to us.

For the generation that I’m in going to university, I feel like promises are being made that are rarely upheld. The exceptional few are held up as examples of what the majority will ultimately fail to be. 

How should one spend their time? I think they get us to spend it chasing our dreams because so many of us would rather have chased and failed than to have never tried at all.

But you can get money back. You can never get your time back.