Category Archives: Personal Essay

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If it wasn’t so early, I’d tell you that I felt a spark.

If it wasn’t so early , I’d tell you I felt a connection.

If it wasn’t so early. I’d tell you that I want to talk more.

If it wasn’t so early, I’d tell you that I love your voice.

If it wasn’t so early, I’d say that you’ve ignited a fire inside of me.

If it wasn’t so early, I’d tell you the way your energy turns me on.

If it wasn’t so early, I’d reconsider the where I want to move.

If it wasn’t so early, I’d tell you I hate that you take for ever to text back.

If it wasn’t so early, I’d tell you that your smile is on constant replay in my mind.

If it wasn’t so early, I’d tell you I miss our deep conversations.

My ego wants to believe you began to pull back because you were afraid of what this might be. That it’s easier to let go than to be vulnerable.

But reality may be that my feelings were one sided.

The reality may be you may have someone already.

The reality may be, we weren’t meant to be.

The reality is I don’t even know much about you.

But I’d be lying if I say you didn’t stir something up inside of me.

Your confidence pulled me in.

But your responsiveness repelled me out.

Your depth consumed me.

But your distance released me.

Journal Entry #14

So I met another guy.

He’s sweet, intelligent, and his goals align with mine. He has spiritual depth, which is a rare occurrence I’m noticing. He’s a bit older than I am — not my usual type as far as looks go, but his personality and the way he thinks are attractive.

I knew he was attracted to me and had a little crush, but I paid him no mind. That is, until one day when we were both on break — coincidentally, at the same time. He struck up a conversation, which took me by surprise. I was genuinely interested and impressed with how closely his ideals aligned with mine. I didn’t go too deep — it was our first real conversation — but it kept me thinking for the last couple of days: could this be something?

He texts me to make sure I get home safe. He texts me in the morning. But when I text back, it takes him hours to respond. And that’s growing old quickly.

There’s none of the depth that initially caught my attention in person. His texts feel surface-level — like he doesn’t know what to say. I can start a conversation, but if a person isn’t reciprocating or engaging, then it’s going to die fast. I won’t exert more of my energy to make up for anyone else’s lack of effort.

The texts are flirty, which I liked at first. Something cute like “hey you,” which earned him some points — but now it’s getting repetitive. The conversations aren’t going anywhere, and I’m starting to lose interest.

He’s playful, I’ve noticed. Yesterday I ordered food and he was the one making it. When I came to pick it up, he was acting like I was too slow to get it — which I know is childlike and might seem lame to some, but to me, it was cute. If I’m interested in the person.

I also had a moment of déjà vu the first time he texted me. That initially sparked even more curiosity.

There’s a book I read once — Many Lives, Many Masters by Brian L. Weiss — that explains a theory about déjà vu I found fascinating. A little backstory on the book, A psychiatrist had a patient who suffered from severe anxiety and depression. When none of the usual treatments worked, he turned to hypnotherapy.

Under hypnosis, the woman began to speak as though she had lived dozens of lives before — 87, to be exact. In each life, this same psychiatrist was present in a different form, always playing the role of a teacher or guide. She claimed they were bound by something beyond this life — that their souls had crossed paths many times before.

She described purgatory not as a place of punishment, but as a pause — a waiting room between lives where souls choose the moments they want to carry forward. Moments that might help them find their destiny again if they were cut short the last time. That sense of déjà vu, she said, came from remembering one of those chosen moments.

Even if you don’t take the story literally, it opens your mind to the idea that maybe… just maybe… some people walk into our lives not for the first time — but for another try.

That’s what I felt when he texted me. A strange familiarity. A flicker of memory without a source. It made me wonder: Are our essences tied to something deeper? Is he part of my story in a way I can’t yet see?

But… if he’s not putting in the effort, then I guess I’ve got my answer about his role in my life.

Maybe he’s nervous.

Maybe he’s intimidated.

But here’s what I know for sure:

I will not stop my journey to wait and look back for someone who is unsure and afraid.

America’s Mouth Is Bigger Than Its Unity

So… we struck Iran. Hit three of their nuclear sites. And the wildest part? After we bombed them, we packed up our gear like we were just headed home for the night.

Like… are we somebody’s parent now? We can just fly in, punish a whole country, take their toys, and tell them, “Don’t retaliate—you shouldn’t have had those weapons in the first place”?

Then I get online and see the usual internet tough guys talking reckless:

“Iran better not come here.”

“They better go to the softer states.”

“Florida, Chicago, and New York alone could take them out.”

Are y’all serious?

America is more divided than it’s ever been. We’re fighting within our own states, within our own homes. We don’t need new enemies—we can’t even get along with each other. You really think we’re going to easily beat a nation like Iran if things escalate?

Especially if countries like Russia or China get involved. That’s not just a fight—that’s a full-blown war. And anyone who thinks we can handle that solo because our army is “so big” is delusional.

Strategy beats numbers. Every time.

And guess what? They’ve already found our crack: division.

America is split by race, class, ideology—you name it. Every class trying to prove they’re superior. And while we’re doing that, other countries are watching. Planning. Waiting. Iran might be smaller, but don’t underestimate them. They’ve got pride. They’ve got heart. And history has shown us that underdogs don’t always lose.

This isn’t Call of Duty. This is real life. Real lives. Real consequences.

What could you do, really, if an Iranian soldier came to your door ready to risk his life and yours? These people aren’t afraid to die, we are already taking everything away from them.

Better yet , what if Trump drafted you to fight in a war where the lines of right and wrong weren’t as clear as you thought? Where you’re suddenly on the side accused of genocide and violence?

So before y’all go running your mouths online, maybe take a second to realize: War isn’t won by talk. And peace isn’t kept by ignorance.

Land of the Thieves, Home of the Hypocrites

If we’re going to talk about immigrants, let’s start with the original ones. The ones who stole land, rewrote the Bible in the image and still want us to believe they’re chosen to lead.

Native Americans have been living throughout the Americas for thousands of years. Europeans showed up claiming the land and saying they had every right because they were backed by the Doctrine of Discovery. What that is, is a religious/ political claim that gave Christian Europeans the “right” to take ANY non-Christian land “in the name of the crown”. They planted flags, reported back to “the crown” and received more money, people, and troops who set up colonies. Indigenous people were forced to convert to Christianity or labeled as savages and treated like animals. If they resisted, they were killed, enslaved, or forcibly removed. Europeans brought disease like smallpox and the measles and wiped-out Native populations who were ill equipped and slaughtered the rest.

If that wasn’t enough, the colonizers didn’t want to tend to the land they stole themselves, so instead forced indigenous people to do so and later trafficked African slaves through the transatlantic salve trade to join in as well.

Colonizers renamed rivers, cities, people. They brought European languages, governments, borders, and values. Erasing the history, religion, and identities of indigenous persons. Much of like what they do today with black culture.

Colonizers call us “minorities” to keep us in a cage. To remind us that we’re lower than them. Lesser than. That they are more capable of leading because of their genetics.

They believe they are closer to God when a lot of them don’t even believe in one. The very countries that colonized the world in the name of Christianity, reject the very God they used to justify their conquest.

Colonizers always claim to be “building a better world”. When in reality it has always been about power, profit, and control. Many wars and racial systems in place today are direct result of colonization. Think about that the next time you want to call someone an immigrant.

The Felon MAGA Follows

I have goals. Almost completely impossible ones—the kind that demand everything from me. Time, energy, sacrifice, relentless effort. But lately, I’ve been asking myself: what’s the point?

I live in a country where college security guards are being trained like ICE agents—because the students are considered the threat. Meanwhile, the man pulling the strings has been convicted of 34 felonies.

Thirty-four.

So why shouldn’t I just rob a bank? Why am I out here trying to do the right thing when it’s clear that doing the wrong thing gets you further? Trump has made openly racist, sexist, and vile comments. He’s told the world to “grab women by the p*y.” He stripped away DEI initiatives, which were created to address the very real biases marginalized people face on campuses and in the workplace. In one move, he made it even harder for people who don’t look like him to get anywhere in life.

He’s been connected to the Epstein files. You know, the ones tied to child trafficking on a private island—but nobody seems to care. He’s been impeached—twice. He’s been accused of rigging elections. And still… people vote for him.

At this point, I have to ask: Are y’all brainwashed? Part of a cult? Or just straight-up evil?

And the biggest joke? He still talks about immigrants like they’re the problem.

We’re all from somewhere else. Unless you’re Native American, you’re standing on stolen land. So who’s the real threat?

Let me be clear: There is nothing more dangerous in this country than a bored, powerful, entitled white man who feels humiliated. History proves it. From mass shootings to economic crashes to unjust wars—the pattern is there if you’re willing to look. But people don’t want to. They’d rather wear red hats and call it patriotism.

Where’s your humanity? Your empathy?

More of us have died peacefully protesting than you have for storming government buildings.

And yet you still think you’re on the right side of history?

Make. It. Make. Sense.

Think about what this world will look like for the generation after us. Your sons, daughters, nieces, nephews—do you really want them to grow up in the rubble of one man’s ego?

Or maybe, we really are too far gone.