Her and her shadow

She saw life as an ocean,
a sea of pain.
1000 emotions yet all she felt was pain.
Drown in that sorrow, pain is abyss,
And all time is borrowed.
If so, endless hurt is the consequence of such loaned treasure, but like all things good, it can not last forever.
For her life was an ocean, a sea of pain; she wondered ‘if I drown in sorrow, in my sea of pain, will this abyss cease and set me free again’

Love Me While I’m Here

It can happen in an instant,

One moment you’re cruising,

The next your sinking.


Those final moments can be so fitting;

life and death, forever besides never,

if deaths eternal then what is living?


I remember the way they saw me,

If only they knew I could see them now,

I flutter in and out of consciousness as they scream and shout.


‘Fight it… fight it’

But I’m done fighting,

I’m fully resigned to leaving now.


They don’t love me really, not even now.


They worry for their loss as they forget about mine.

I’ll be gone forever but they’ll forget that in time.

They should have loved me while I was here;


Before the pink left my lips and my dreams disappeared,

before time took my mind, before age took my frame,

back when we had more time, more memories to make.


They never loved me while I was here.

But as I’m leaving they love me again?

Funny how things change.

Hope – Curtain Call

I still wonder sometimes, I wonder what my vision will grant. 

If my scope is large and I cast my net wide, 

If my dreams remain, if my heart stays clean 

and my conscience stays clear? there are no bounds to what I can be.  

And that’s all from you, 

Empathy and understanding that’s all from you. 

I became a man of principles and that’s all from you. 

Because you gave me love, which made me love,  

so, ultimately that’s on you too. 

I learnt this all from you, 

You are my inspiration, my queen, 

the one who I write both for and about, 

Everything is for you, 

My life, my hope, my curtain call. 

Still Busy In Wonder: Her


She had the sort of stare that pierced,

a look that sent all gaze and attention in her direction.

She was the sort of lady that they erased from history,

yet the strength of her tune still blossomed and grew.

Blessed with power and grace,

Intelligence and beauty, but a delicate heart;

The type that breaks,

yet is somehow still filled with love in that state.

She had the type of spirit that defeats death,

we star-crossed lovers defied such fate;

till death do us part,

but even in death our bond couldn’t break.

So I don’t say rest in peace, I say wait…

In peace till I join someday.

At The End of Every Tunnel… There’s Light.

What if in the end there’s nothing?

If when all is said and done, more was said than done.

If in the end its just empty and cold,

alone, no resurrection or second coming.


We were sold the ideal of happy ever after,

But what is ever?

Is it the 3 scores plus 10 that the bible promised?

Or a seat at the table where God is?


Is it the promise of an eternal heaven,

The perfect utopian paradise?

In that case is life the parasite

That sucks until this endless ending?



A concept that not one of us has seen

But so many believe.

What if we confused what forever could really be.


What if in the end we are left with memories.

If in the end our forever is what’s in our hearts?

If in the end it doesn’t matter what happens in the end?

For death is inevitable, it truly is;

but in the end, memories remain long after we depart.


Still Busy In Wonder: Chasing Perfection… Chapter 17

Perfectionist… I have never quite understood the term, I mean ultimately aren’t we all perfectionist? Id like to think its something etched into the human psyche which shackles us to perfect expectations… but what if it isn’t?

There was a period in my life where I could write for days. I’d find myself reading all sorts of knowledgeable and engaging content, content which would spark this burning desire for me to write. Fluid thought and new creative ideas and worldviews seemed to find me and subsequently I’d find a pen. In a way writing is the ultimate reflection of the writer. During a time when I thought I fully understood the world, at least as it pertains to me, my writing was assured, I believed whole heartedly in my words. Ultimately, when my mind is stable my writing is also stable.

Over the past 2 months I have been writing and re-drafting with no real ambition to publish any of the works I have written. It isn’t that I no longer have the ability to write, its more to do with what reflection I am reflecting onto my writing. As I said writing is a reflection of the writer; currently as a writer, or better yet as a person, I am at a crossroads where I have suddenly begun to realise that I indeed know very little. The less assured I feel about this world, our society, our practices and ideas, the more I feel myself being hung by the imperfections that once seemed so perfect to me.  


01:49 – 101217

What’s your life worth?
What makes you dream?
If so and so makes you whole and your incomplete…
If you were to replace the words ‘so and so’ what would that be?

If my page could cry it would weep.
Because it’s been years since my thoughts had sleep,
Yet in those years those thoughts made dreams
And in turn those dreams made me?

If so then what’s my life worth?
The idea of a purpose makes me tick.
The idea of reason wills me to live.
Even when life hurts.

To put life first.
Love, people, dreams alike.
Put life first,
Let pain be the shell which carries hope and makes a not so perfect life work.

Because that’s what life’s worth.
The imperfections that make us,
the pain that awaits us
and the dreams that shape us.

Still Busy In Wonder: Decisions? Chapter 16

image.jpegI been thinking about life, in particular decisions and circumstance. How much control do we have over such things? How much of our lives are predetermined by exterior stimuli before we ever making any real meaningful decisions?

Life is the sum total of circumstances and decisions, in the end only one of these variables is controlled. The reality is we are all victims of circumstance. A great portion of our lives are already somewhat decided before our decisions are even factored into the equation. What I have learnt from this is that this makes our decisions that much more important, the half of the equation that we control is the half of the equation we should focus on.

I am in no way diminishing the impact of circumstance on our decisions. I am saying that if circumstance is an immovable object that is it worth even being a considered point when it comes to decision making? They say everyday you learn, if that’s true, everyday I am learning to deal with reality. Reality is everything the world tries to distract you from by presenting you with, thoughts ideas and things that have no necessary function for our lives.

I’ve come to a conclusion, well one that works for me at the very least. If there is a formula for success and happiness, that formula is wonder plus decisions. In the end, when all else is gone all we have is wonder and decisions, two entity’s that are both equally dependant on one another. In the end it’s our decision whether to wonder or not and how much we wonder about our decisions that separates the notion of a successful or a failed life.

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.