Life, in a boiling kettle.

There is something so captivating about it. It howls until it is heard and released. It wraps whatever is holding it back.
We try to taste it, but come away with burns. We try to smell it, but it is something we are all too familiar with. We try to grab it, yet it quite literally, slips through our fingers.
Is life not the same?
Attempts and failures. Shots and misses. Steps and stumbles.
What is steam?
Is it simply not just droplets of water? Droplets of water turn to mist and vanish. Mist. Clouds. Fog.
What is steam?
Only under the light, can steam be seen. Only under the light, can water be reflected. Only under the light, can mist refract into a rainbow.
What is steam?
Only under the fire, are we refined. Only under fire, can we be set on fire. Only when we are on fire, can we spread fire.
A split second to be recognized. A split second to be beautiful. A split second to be remembered.
What is steam?
Is it not simply water with a flame underneath? Let us be se…


I slam it back, my head follows suit. Then second, within seconds. Blurred lines all around me. Watercolour paintings flood my eyes.
 The third, the kick.
Everyone loves a little fun right? "Faster, faster!" Thud. Slide. Press.
 My head comes forward.
The strain in my neck releases. My smile widens. Fourth.
 My senses are fumigated by pure adrenaline.
Patience was left long ago. Action. Reaction. Rinse. Repeat. Go.
 Red and green, deeply meld into each other.
Fantasy meets reality. Excitement trumps punishment. Fifth.
 A gentle pull, yet a monumental rush.
Stripes swell into uniformity. The roar prompts me. Thud. Slide. Contract.
 Wailing pierces my peace.
Blue. White. Red. America. Solitude screech to a stop. "Good afternoon, Officer."
- The Drive, Pt. 2


Breaking new ground or invading the skies?
Destroying the earth or constructing new pathways?
Perspective changes everything.
We get caught up in the way we think.  "It is the only way." "It is the right way."
What if there was something else at play?  What if it was completely upside down?  what if it was actually two in the same?
What if the path only went straight?

'Perspective' is relative.

Left and right. Day and night. Black and white. Wrong and right.
Turn it around. Turn it upside down. A smile turns to a frown. But has anything really changed? 

A man works the night shift while he sleeps in the light.  A right-hand turn is left to be decided by the oncoming. An answer is correct if the question is changed. Chess is won with strategy, not colour.
Are these not all perspectives? Are these not all words?
Or are these only just thoughts?

We are all similar, but 'similar' does not mean the same.
We are all different, but 'different' doe…

.Forest, The

Yes, we're unique, but this isn't our story.
Like the trees in a forest, each one of us stands on its own. Each one of us is rooted in the good soil. Some of us grow to be tall, some wide, some short, some small. Each one, unique and standing on its own.
Yet each one of us, especially in this generation, think that we are that special one, the one whom the whole world revolves around. 

"I don't understand why it isn't working out for me."

"I don't belong here."

"I was meant for something more than this!"

Sometimes I'd rather be dead than this growing pain.

"Why can't I just be like that right now?"

We are different, we are all unique. We all have a special gift, a special talent, a special story, don't we?

Yes, we're unique, and each one of us, all say the same thing. "I am special, I am different, but I don't know how I separate from all these other trees."