Sometimes the most beautiful places are filled with the shittiest people. It works just the opposite too.

I have only a few hours left in this cottage. I’m gathering my belongings and my thoughts.

I’m going to miss running to the beach everyday and biking around the farm. There is so much natural beauty in this place that it’s almost unfair to look at.

I spent most days alone. Exercising, reading, taking notes, walking and cooking. I’m guilty for spending an extra hour on my phone when I could’ve just sat outside.

Truth be told, what’s worse than the flocking number of wasps in this town is the actual wasps. Hah. Yes.

I don’t know what’s more annoying…. having a bee the size of your thumb circle around the book you’re reading OR constantly going out into the town and being referred to as exotic.

“You’re so exotic. You’re from Iraq? You look just like my Persian friend.”

“Wow! You’re from Ireland? You look just like my friend from the UK.”

Good thing there is wine. I always come back with comebacks that are made for night time television.

Between waking up to a new insect in my bed every morning and getting cut in line because I look like the staff, this was the most beautiful summer I’ve ever had.

I did things that I’ve never tried before. I woke up to the sun and fell asleep to the moon.

With all of this time in enchanted beauty and solitude I didn’t figure out all of the puzzling questions I had in my head… no…

But something did happen towards the end… that I just can’t explain in writing.

I’m ready.


The Hamptons remind me of a suburban-farm town my family moved in to when I was 12.

Covington is now a diverse and populated city. Around the time I had moved, there was only a Fred Meyer and one traffic light. There was a population of certain kinds of people that felt threatened by the new move of upcoming middle class immigrants.

We never felt welcomed there. Whether it was due to the slue of hate crimes post 9/11 or because it was my first taste of the middle class. Before this it was an old dirty flat that roomed 7 people.

Covington had beautiful parts. There were alpaca farms, horses and lots of trees. I enjoyed taking walks alone. Sometimes in the day and sometimes at night.

I just got back from riding my bike to the grocery store. On the ride I began to reminisce of this and how things have drastically changed since… and yet, how certain things still feel the same.

I’m still alone in a place that doesn’t feel like it’s mine.

I don’t know … life seems to cycle like seasons do. It’s always changing but I’m confronted with same storm.

The Araby

Last night a storm woke me up at 2:00 A.M.

The electricity went out and the windows were shaking. I’m only 5 minutes away from the ocean. The energy is even more intense.

After a few minutes the TV began to work. I was shook and could not sleep. I caught an episode of cheaters.

In this episode, the female lover was wearing a mask and was chained to the bed. The chained wrists had a handcuff that was big enough to cover the circumference of her white cast.

She was embarrassed. The cameras surrounded her and the man that was aiding her infidelity. He seemed to not care about her boyfriend’s reaction. They asked him how he felt, he responded that he didn’t give a **** about so and so. He left. The lover cried and asked the cheaters cast to unchain her.

The host replied, “Wait so you want me to unchain you? Why are you in a mask, why is there ketchup everywhere? This looks like a murder scene.”

I almost died of laughter. I remember one of my old roommates. She would watch these horrible intervention shows just to compare it to her own life — and later feel better that she wasn’t as bad.

The guilt was eating at me. Am I any better than those who get caught red handed?

The program continued to repeat infomercials about anti-aging secrets in the medium of creams, medical devices and wellness centers.

The storm began to travel east of the ocean.

I’m tired of always having to heal. A physical wound is easier to mend to. I can’t put a bandaid on my head. I’m tired of saying “I want to disappear.”

I’ve already disappeared on everyone. What more do I want?

Life is a numbers game. Everyone wants 10-20% more than what they originally asked for. That’s why most of us aren’t too satisfied with our lives. Some call it greed… but for most of us it’s the American Dream.

The set

Where has life taken me for the last year and a half? I’ve found myself in the middle of tropical jungles, ancient castles, worldly events and champagne glasses.

In the last couple of days, I’ve had dreams of people from my past. Lovers and old friends. I’m a little ashamed to admit that I reminisce more about them than the other way around.

All I have are these memories. For some time, I was trying to piece them together… “What happened?” And “Why is no one here?” And then I realized that it just had to be this way.

God, the universe, the highest power…whatever we call the supreme had a different plan for me. In order to have what I have now, I had to let go of the past. And that meant people.

Like figurines in a sculpture park, each one of them defy a story of who I once was. I’m in awe of my past because of the brilliance I was able to acquire from it.

If I could start all over, I’d only make myself more aware of the details.

The neon lights that sprawled across our young bodies. No one was awake when I was dancing with the devil. I’d replay the many scenes of me hoping into the scorching hot showers, washing away the sins of another man.

I’d capture every crack in the old motels and every sun rise on the open road.

I’d dance in circles on the casino carpet to the chimes of the penny slots.

What a magical life. To end up in the world’s most beautiful places when it began in loveless scenes.

I remember one day specifically at the Palms. I was looking through the tall windows and my eyes focused on the big white church right across the street.

It stood out like gold.

I thought of her. And all that she went through and how hard it must have been to be alone.

I prayed for the whirlwind to end… but it only got better.