Still Busy In Wonder: The Absent Mind… Chapter 15

Firstly I’d like to apologise for my absence. Recently I’ve been wondering about the future. Usually when we think in terms of the future, we think in terms of what we will be doing or who we will be with, well that’s usually my process at the very least. You wonder about who will survive and grow with you, what job you may or may not have, the usual. Well usually.

However this has been a little more less usual than usual. There was a time for me when everything came quite easy, not much thinking was involved in decision making, if I liked something I’d do it. I’m not entirely yet sure what clicked in my mind, but my thoughts about the future have changed, for me it’s now become a conversation about character. I wonder what sort of man I will grow to become, which decisions that I’ve made will impact my character.

Everything is so easy when you’re not thinking about it, it’s sort of like a routine. It’s when you start thinking about things that life becomes more difficult. More thoughts equate to more questions, more questions lead to more information, which usually tends to lead to yet more questions, it’s a cycle. I never intended on becoming a man that questions so much, but the more I know, the more I want to know.

When I look around and I see all the insignificant facets of life that people care about, I feel a little envious. I guess ignorance is bliss. The power of thought can be a wonderful thing, it is the same power that has helped lead so many to greatness. However thought can also be a lonely process as it both requires and encourages isolation. I guess that’s where I’ve been, that’s why I haven’t been here, not that I haven’t been writing, I have, I’ve just been writing for myself.

SBIW, Asya Valentine ✍🏾❤️


Still Busy In Wonder: mind over matter??? Chapter 14


I’ve always been told that our thoughts become things. The idea is that if your thoughts are negative then your life becomes negative, the boomerang effect, or maybe better described as psychological karma. As a result we often hear that if we are to get positive feedback from the universe we must send out positive vibrations. Which in itself is a nice idea, it lends to the idea of meritocracy and as a by product you could argue that it props up the ideals of capitalism; by suggesting that even nature works in a system that benefits those who are perceived to have poured the most into that system.

In a statistical sense it does make sense, generally speaking middle class people have a more positive outlook on society, the glass half full types. But are their lives positive because their thoughts are positive? Or alternatively are their thoughts positive because their lives are positive? In a world that is designed to keep a certain percentage of the population marginalised is it possible that some of those people may have been trained to have negative thoughts.

It is said that the child is the blank canvas, the canvas that is being carefully painted, only to finish simultaneously as we take our final breath. But while all canvases come equal, the tools and the artist assigned to each canvas vary in quality. We are products of experience, whether those experiences are positive or negative they mild us. Thoughts do not become things, thinking is the process that takes place as a result of things happening.

For example, there exist a school of thought that believes that children born at the end of the school year face a disadvantage to those born at the begininning of the school year based on age. In such a situation two children could be almost a year apart, which means that one child has been experiencing the world for a year longer than the other. As a result they are physically stronger, have read more times than the younger child, which as a result gives them the appearance of being smarter than the other child. If that child is then placed into a higher class set than the other child, he is then given better tools to succeed and as a result a gap in knowledge is created, one that may not have existed if both children were given the same opportunity.

In many ways life is a race. A race that many people have not been given the proper tools to equally compete in. When you take into account all of the minor disavantages that face some of us face it becomes clear someone may be 50 steps ahead of you by the time you apply for university, but is that because they’re smarter than you? The culmination of those disadvantages results in one huge step back, the creation of a gap that ultimately can’t and was never intended to be bridged.

I wonder if it’s ever possible to become a self fulfilling prophecy? I wonder if we as individuals could ever wield the power to create destiny, to control thought and action simultaneously? The world is not designed in a way that affords us the opportunity to control our physical or mental world. We are the sum of pain, results of our experience. The children that were taught we could be anything we put our minds too, but that’s a fallacy. We are dreamer generation that won’t ever wake up, the result of a lack of physical opportunity not mental ability.


Elle est Cassée

image.jpegRelease her pain.
Increase her strength, achieve her aims.
Goals resemble the autumn leaves,
Goals that wilt and fall, again and again .

Alone she sits and alone she dreams,
Thousands of friends on the web but alone she sleeps.
Alone in wonder.
A moment can last an eternity.

Love is a hope for all but for few a reality.
If love answers all questions then it’s carried by hope.
For love should reveal all answers but realities slow.
As tragedy hits and apathy grows, where wonder wanders we become driven by fallacy.

The promise of happy ever after,
The last time she was open she was unhappy thereafter.
So she hides behind the shadow of strength. Afraid of being hurt or embarrassed again.

If love is the answer she’s tired of questions.
If emotions the cure, she’d stay sick forever more.
For love is the problem for one so caring,
For one so real, for one so open, love can bring more pain than war.

Birthday Special: Chapter 22 Who Could I Have Been?


Who Could I Have Been?

22 years and a dream,
It took 22 too see, who could I have been?
I’m in 22 deep, thousands of cuts and bruises.
Battles with dreams from writing to music.
If my walls could talk they’d recall the nights,
Record the days and recall my life.
When things weren’t clear I’ve always had you there,
In my heart, reminding me who I could have been.

After all I’ve seen, who could I have been?
The guy on the corner or the guy at the desk.
Friends fall victim to the system could I be next?
They say ‘a picture paints a thousand words’ but I write instead.
A thousand words of pain and a thousand of strength,
I used to carry anger now I carry a pen.
Where would I be now if I had carried it then.
Put it down then pick it up and I carry again.

If I knew then what I know now where would I stand,
But time waits for no man
And growth isn’t planned.
Nonetheless I’m still indebted to where this began.
Castletown Road, in a 1 bedroom flat.
3 boys, a baby on the way, 2 absent dads,
But wouldn’t change it if it changed me from the man that I am.
If it were possible I’d love to go back.

I’d tell myself it won’t be easy,
Along the way there’s bumps and pain.
Along the way there’s hurt and rage.
But it gets better so I’d tell myself to stay.
I’d tell myself that at 18 you won’t have it all figured out and that’s okay.
In the end you always learn, so make your mistakes.
Go ahead and be great.
Go ahead… for what’s ahead is the catalyst for change.

In 22 years you’d make a handful of friends.
But remember a handful is still full, so appreciate them.
And despite all the pain and in spite of the stress,
You’ll learn to cry tears of joy and smile when you’re depressed.
For whatever I am influences what I’ll become,
Even when heaven gained an angel and we lost one,
We still had dreams
And without those who would I have been?
Still Busy In Wonder.

Asya Valentine


Lilies and Wonder

Each breath is a blessing,
Each day is a new chapter in life.
Beginnings and endings,
Not much is promised but time.
So consider how you spend it,
Consider who you want to be,
Consider your message
Because the fact is there is no in-between.

That would be like thinking numbers have an ending. Instead, like thought its constant.
And thought, it blossoms, like life it grows.
Like the flowers, once the sun rises and glows.
The mind is delicate, if beauty is in the eye of the beholder, let them see thought.
Let them love you for you mind and more.
For physical things die, like the flowers they wilt.
But the mind, thoughts and alike travel from soul to soul at will.

So let the world love who you are not what you are.
As all things physical are temporary, but who you are.
For all things that wonder are beautiful and all things that are beautiful wonder.
As all questions have answers if you’re busy in wonder.

Still Busy In Wonder: Silent Thoughts… Chapter 13

image.jpegIn silence there’s noise. The untold can be so pure and valid. We often judge people on what we see and hear, removing context and ignoring the fact that we are constantly playing roles in society. We grow and mould our image, but character is harder to manipulate. Character is final. It’s who you are, the foundation of your existence.

I think about an interesting quote I heard about Tupac. It described the different facets of his personality as the person who he is, the person who he has to be and the person who he wants to be. I wonder sometimes if who I appear to be is reflective of who I am, who I have to be or who I want to be? I wonder, in a different world could I package my persona differently? Be exactly what it is that I want to be, free of any societal pressures.

Who you want to be and who you have to be are both things that can develop over time. Experiences can shape your understanding of life and alter your ambitions, but those experiences also have the ability to force you to act a certain way for survival. Raise a genius in a shallow pool and they will learn, adjust and ultimately fit in. They will be the person they feel they are required to be in order to strive in that environment.

I wonder how many people genuinely get to be who they are in this world? And on the flip side how many people are forced to adapt to the harsh reality of life. In a world where morality and acceptance lay on an ever-swinging pendulum how valid can anyone’s image truly be? More importantly to me, how true of a representation is my image of me? Ultimately I wonder if I will become a victim of this cycle or break it. In the end it will always be a battle between who we are and what we are.

Still Busy In Wonder: Solitude… Chapter 12

imageThe greatest thing about solitude is that it allows you the time to think. Every so often I have to remove myself from society to recollect my thoughts. In a funny way my response to any feelings of pain or loneliness is to seclude myself, it’s weird the way the mind works. But I guess there’s always an upside in all situations, even when it isn’t so blatant.

For me I find that these moments of exclusion often offer new insight into life. I ask myself how many of the seemingly trivial and mundane facets of life become that much more important when you consider them with greater delicacy. For example something as common as being asked ‘how your day was?’ Something that on the surface is a merely polite interaction, can and does mean that much more when it’s what you’re looking for.

When life isn’t as great as it seems and you truly want someone to ask how your day has been those words can mean so much more than normal. Talking becomes so much more appreciated in silence. The power of solitude is that it makes everything within its parameters that much louder and clearer to see. Such as the need for our subtle desires like being listened too and thought of by others on a daily public.

This isn’t a plea for you to ask anyone how there day was, but rather a selfish one, one for you to reflect and ask yourself “who’s checked to see how my day was?” Take some time to be alone and use it to asses this question. How many people are really there for you when you need them?

SBIW, Asya Valentine 📝❤️

Still busy in wonder: Geographical Lottery… Chapter 11

How much of life can we really plan? As a child I had always tried to be someone that approached life using the theory that anything is achievable. That if you work hard enough you can be anything you want. I guess that was the innocence in me rather than anything logical.

I’ve been thinking lately about how much in life is determined before we are born. Ultimately we control very little. Just take where you’re born for example, how many of us would be in the same position we are today had we been born somewhere else? It’s a geographical lottery, if you are lucky enough to be born into a situation that is conducive with prosperity, your future prospects are immediately brighter than someone who was born into poverty. How many businessmen and professionals, how many geniuses and leaders have been born but never discovered?

Even then, poverty and prosperity are both relative concepts. Poverty isn’t something that can be measured in mass, instead it is dependant on where you are and what/who’s around you. The man with £1000 is rich to the man with £10 but poor to the man with £10,000. I guess what I’m saying is it is an illusion. Everything that anyone has ever accomplished, both the good and the bad, are more down to chance than skill. With such nuance in life what’s reality?

Whether we are looking at cultural , ideological or economical differences, how much of it is pre-determined before we are born? If our world view is dependent on our experiences, how can we take our world view and apply it to people who haven’t experienced what we have?


Read Between The Lines. 3:14am

Don’t run from my mind.
I know we live in the Internet era, a picture paints a thousand words, a thousand followers, do the math…
but don’t run from my mind.

Easier said than done.
I know it’s hard for you to prioritise time, but that’s all we have and all we spend, so once again do the math?
But just don’t run from my mind.

The lost soul, the writer. The desired outcast, in a place where sometimes the bridge feels to far to cross, it would be easy to burn it.
For now enter my mind.

Subliminal but sublime, read between the lines and find your way across this ocean which is my mind. If pressure breeds diamonds and burst pipes which am I?

If nothing else, just don’t run away from my mind.

SBIW, Asya Valentine