boxes on boxes on boxes

PC: Soul <3

Soul and i carcamped in Santa Barbara last night

it blows my mind, seeing how ‘far’ i’ve come

before Soul, i would never have thought car camping in a non-rural area was possible

not ‘possible’ in the sense of it being viable or actualizable, but possible in the sense of me feeling like it’s in my realm to even consider

i still feel discomfort about looking like a transient, like someone ‘leeching’ off… off what? the city? the land? the people?

i still feel discomfort stepping out of the car in my pj’s, puffy eyed, disheveled hair, rubbing my face as i wake up to the sound of the actual residents of SB on their morning walks, looking like normal people who pay the price to live there

i still feel the discomfort of feeling like i don’t belong, like i’m squatting on other people’s land

i hear the disapproving judgment that would inevitably come out of my dad’s mouth if he saw people doing what we did, 

like ‘what kind of people would actually choose to sleep in a car? don’t they have money for a room? their own home?

look at them, people who just sleep wherever, without a proper place to lay their head.

they must not have a job, they must not know what it’s like to work, and to pay for amenities.

they must not know what it’s like to be adults, actual adults that take care of their responsibilities and contribute to society.

what a waste.’


those were my thoughts this morning,

seeing through the eyes of my dad, someone i learned how to view the world, how to relate to it.

i’ve created a baseline of life, of identity, of truth from this man,

and not just this man, but also my mom

and also the church

and also school

and also my peers

and also media

and also society.

all before i learned i had a choice in what to believe,

in how to view the world,

in how to be me.


it’s all so fascinating

observing the judgment, the filter, the perspective

and realizing that it’s a judgment, a filter, a perspective.

nothing wrong with any of it

nothing to fix

nothing to change, really.

just follow my heart, choose what resonates, and keep journeying.

i can feel my age-old question: what is the truth?

or rather, what is Truth?

what is the thing that actually matters?

what is the thing i can bank on in this life,

the thing that was before me,

and continues after me?

what is the thing that i actually care about?

it’s so interesting to see how i have come,

from inside the box,

not knowing i’m in a box,

that there is a box,

to seeing the box,

choosing outside the box,

or rather, choosing me,

which happens to be outside the box…

but then also realizing, that anywhere i actually place myself is still in relation to a box, whether inside or outside or next to or above it…

and realizing…





there is no such thing…

truly one of the most expansive…

and sometimes uncomfortable realizations.

to realize that i am actually free.

such a cliche, right?

and yet, every time i come into it, 

it feels so fucking real,

so fucking applicable,




there is a reckoning that comes with these realizations,

a reckoning of how i want to be with these realizations,

how i want to walk going forward,

how i want to hold the part of me that once believed in the box, felt safe in it, judged others for being outside of it…

how i want to hold the me that is now… not really about the box.

all i wanted in the past was to fit in, to never draw attention to myself, or at least not the ‘bad’ kind of attention aka judgment.

i felt so safe feeling unseen, feeling like i quietly, stealthily belonged…

now it feels like i had just wanted to be silent, not just in voice, but in clothing style, in appearance, in personality…

so i could ‘get away’ with being part of something that i perhaps deeply didn’t feel a part of,

because i had learned somewhere along the way that the thing to do always, was to fit in.

fit into what?

i’m not sure…

perhaps more like blend in, so i don’t attract attention.

and now, i feel like i’m on the other side of things,

or perhaps i feel that more at this moment, here in Santa Barbara, with its primarily white upper middle class demographic.

i definitely feel, in more recent years, that when i walk into an establishment i feel less on the side of the ‘in’ fence.

sometimes i feel uncomfortable

sometimes i feel comfortable

it is always interesting to observe my response to… myself hahaha

i feel like i’m sort of coming to terms with being okay with the whole there-is-no-box thing.

i’m getting used to it,

while walking and living in a dimension of boxes.

i feel like coming home to me, is allowing myself to be however i choose,

in the way that feels good to me.

it doesn’t really mean to negate or judge or diminish the boxes of others, since there really aren’t any.

it doesn’t mean to judge others who live in them, who live by them, who propagate them, who fight for them, etc etc etc

it just means… i get to live in my own… box-less… box haahhahahah.

oh the freaking irony.

i just get to live,

choosing what feels good,

leaning into what unfolds before me,

regardless of what it looks like,

knowing, that in the center of all of life, is me, who i truly am (which is a constant exploration and evolution in itself), what i’m about, what i want to be about.

so simple.

it has always been about this.

or maybe it’s what i’ve always made it about, made me about.

my little box




, , , ,




I wanna know what you think

%d bloggers like this: