double-sided coin

It does seem significantly harder to write when lacking a depression factor of some sort. Interestingly, I argue that depression should be described as an evolutionary mechanism. It forces introspection and ego-destruction in ways that cannot be achieved inside the boundaries of complacency.

Perhaps more depression in the world could drive society into a better direction, which I realize is a bold claim to justify, especially for a person who does not currently suffer from the effects. However, I write this piece from the perspective of a child who has undergone various forms and seen different faces of the demon that is depression.

But from the flames of such a hell, comes sprouting a superior being.; one that is better equipped for life, with newborn perspective and open-mindedness.

I argue that depression is like a near-death experience, as it falls into a similar category: things that truly challenge a person’s desire for life but nonetheless genuinely open a new realm of reality, thus installing a new depth to one’s capacity for experience.

So then, I ask, why is it that depression is marketed in such a negative light? Could society’s vicious marketing be the true face of the 21st-century-first-world demon, or is it the condition itself?


“Do not be afraid of what you are about to suffer. I tell you, the devil will put some of you in prison to test you, and you will suffer persecution for ten days. Be faithful, even to the point of death, and I will give you life as your own victor’s crown.” – Revelation 3:10



– September 24, 2017



An interesting feature of deceit is that one cannot know he is being deceived, during his deception. Much is similar in a recurring concept, addiction.


A priest once told me that the devil works in mysterious ways, just as God does.

An educator once told me that marijuana was a gateway drug, opening adolescent eyes to a new realm of fabricated pleasure.

A mentor once told me that love is misinterpreted as need.


These 3 statements faced an honest, youthful gaze that replied in an engaged tone that said, “yes, I understand.”


September 18, 2017

NO ,notlimaH

Say hello to the forbidden city, the city of smog, the city of drunkards and tomfoolery

Musky grey streets, earthy brown air, dead men walking about

Rusty cars, rouge brick buildings, shattered windows, uneasy faces.

Now, turn your head and say hello.

Say hello to the gaping gates, the city of forests, the city of effort and strength

Worn streets, grainy air, hard-nosed men going

First cars, historic architecture, growing infrastructure, growing people.

Now, turn your head and say hello.

Say hello to two dimensions the same city, the city of

Same streets, same air, same men

Same cars, same buildings, same infrastructure, same people.

The city is only forbidden to the men who forbid themselves.

Purple Star

Mushrooms, as per usual, provided me with an interesting experience. In retrospect to my own previous statement, where I declared an internal war against my love for amphetamines and hallucinogens, I feel like it was fair for myself to enjoy a bit of a binge while basking in the comfort of my hometown.

Now, down to the nitty-gritty, did I experience any sort of realization or some form of transcending clarity?

Again, my answer is no. This recent experience with the drug involved many hallucinations and interesting internal visuals. However, with that said, I feel like the most unique aspect of this recent trip was the formation of physical feeling sourced from emotional/spiritual roots. My breathing patterns were changing based on the touch of my hand as my emotional/spiritual stability lied in a very small margin for comfort. Truly, it once again gave me a sense of belonging and perfection, removing me from the roots of societal norms and bringing me back to a state of infancy.

I feel like my mind has undergone a successful dust-off and refurbishing, like how a car engine goes through an oil change. I entered a realm of ambiance and creativity that I have not seen in many years.

Tuesday, January 3

Introduction: the Theory of Individualism

Is it possible to implement a singular, beneficial mindset into the mind of the general human population?

Man is an intelligent species with the capacity that is potentially infinite. The boundaries of the human mind are ignorantly conceptualized, injected with too much philosophy and star-gazing and not enough empiricism. Love, cognitive-homeostasis, and baseline values should step out of the realm of philosophy and enter the field of psychology. The inner workings of the mind (not the brain) should be conceptualized to fit science and its observable properties.

The first step into the extinction of depression, somatoform disorders, hatred and inefficiency is in the collective mind, a concept first introduced by Émile Durkheim. Although it was shot down as ridiculous and as a dreamer’s idea, it has value that might be expanded upon.

My mind still lingers around the idea of a universal, baseline set of values/virtues that every living person has. From serial killers to impoverished tribal members; could you extract ultimate similarities that all mankind shares?

An old friend spoke to me today about my project, the Theory of Individualism. He compared my structure to that of religious faith, something I’ve advocated against my entire life. An epiphany, his comparison was very adequate and my view evolved. Faith is a universal mindset that is forcefully implemented into the minds of billions of people. In my perhaps close-minded opinion, it would be considered indoctrination.

Now, I’m focusing on the concept of the ‘critical period,’ a child’s observed learning between the ages 7-12. According to modern psychology, the critical period is invincible to outer influence. If critical period could be successfully conceptualized, perhaps it could be broken. This would open a new realm of therapy that could be as intricate and influential as a scalpel in an open-brain surgery.

If this is possible, it could be universal, generalized, implementable and above all, magnificent.


(That was an amazing conversation with my old friend, Devon, who reminded me again how influential his wisdom was in shaping my current self.)


– December 5, 2016

Hermit Crab

Homosapien and Paguroidea alike: two animals who live and die according to hierarchy. A hermit crab will spend the entirety of its life in search for the perfect shell: one that corresponds to criteria in both colour and size; as a human will spill his blood and sweat into molding the epitome of himself: a person that perfects the art of mannerism and who gains the wealth of a 1000 other’ average’ men.

Now, despite this broad early-made comparison, the centre of my inquiry lies within myself. Why do I find that in order to gain social status, I must continue to abandon shells? Why must I continue to shed friends, personality traits, and experiences in the ultimate search for comfort and complacency?

The Pen and Her Master

What stems beneath the majestic umbrella of the Angel Oak Tree in the heat and congestion of South Carolina? From such a musty, cemented soil, erected are some of the most beautiful and magnificent networks of branching.

What stems from the right hand of a nicotine-addicted, alcohol enthusiast writer bathing in the rat poison of the 21st century society? What does he spill in for: love, self-fulfillment, or to bask in the transience of isolation?