It was midday and the clouds loitered around the edges of the sky as if they were suspicious of the sun. Beams of light ricocheted off of goggles and snow and beads of sweat that were caught in my oldest brother's beard.  The hike up was our way of earning our run. The hard work and constant determination to get what was important to us made the view and the ridge taste so much sweeter. Finally able to rest, I planted a granola bar in my mouth and squinted through a frame of icy eyelashes to see a sight I had seen before, every day for the past week, but still punched the air out of my lungs. The powder was up to my thighs and the snow lovingly seeped its way into my boots just to kiss my toes with painful numbing. I wiggled them to try tickling some sanity and warmth into them. I only hoped that my toenails wouldn't fall off, but they would inevitably be purple. I pulled up my balaclava to dodge the lunges of frostbite's ravenous teeth. Each nip of cold, the company of my brothers, the view, and the raw interaction with the mountain created a moment that reeked of a dream: a seemingly perfect balance between pain and pleasure.
      The hype of the day kept us from settling our thoughts and quickly my siblings were bounding down the mountain on tele-skis, skis, snowboards, and giddiness. My mind was simultaneously crowded and opened by the superfluous love shared between myself and the people I shared this moment with, the people I look up to, the people who raised me.  My four brothers' elated screams echoed off the mountain ranges that boxed-in the valley below. I joined their chorus of "Shred the Gnar!" and yodels, knowingly embracing the carefree and somewhat foolish mindset of Mother Nature's glee. My skis led the way and found fresh tracks. The lines of the songs that blasted into my ears were translated into the lines that I skied. The music shuffled from Wu-Tang Clan to the Tibetan Monks Of Gaden Sharste & Corciolli but the abrupt change of pace did not hinder my contentedness. I have gained a knack for happily going with the flow, knowing that what the universe hands me is often what I need. The peaceful bellowing of the monks allowed me to take a moment to appreciate that my life is this one on top of this mountain not limited by my economic state with this physically fit and capable body and this working mind. While just minutes before, the fearlessness of Wu-Tang's hip-hop allowed me to bring an angst and stoke for life into my current experience, while also finding the gangster within me. The random shuffling of songs only fed my innate addiction to change and let my enthusiasm multiply and blossom.
Although childish in our hearts and in our unpracticed aerials, we were not childish in our perspective. We had a shared mature understanding of the bigger picture. This was a vast understanding of the world that comes with being a small, overrated mammal sliding on some sticks down the biggest thing it could get its hands on. Each of us took our fair share of tumbles and we iced them each with cacophonous laughter that got muffled by mouthfuls of snow. To be atop a mountain, to go almost unnoticed by a mountain really teaches the skill of not taking things too seriously. In one instance, I grabbed some air and landed scattered into a disorganized pile of all my gear. But my commitment to the bettering of my skills, my world, and myself, let me rise from even my greatest wrecks and the most deadly of wreckage, not unscathed but changed and always for the better. With such a brutal fall, I gained the experience necessary for landing it next time...and the next time, I did.
         After reaching the bottom, without hesitancy, we followed our spontaneous urges to pursue more. Every run I took and every moment spent on that mountain came from a drive to experience and learn. It was based off of my ceaseless search for something new...or for the rad or for the gnar or for swagger or for living a life that could inspire. The seed of this search was planted in me by my five older siblings who all held within their bellies a fire of the same breed. And we sewed that common thread together on ridge lines and in powdered fields where nature is in perfect harmony with man and my head is in perfect harmony with my heart...where my intelligence and ambition trust one another and I trust them because they have gotten me this far and I know they are not tired yet.

My ascent into adulthood was just that, an ascent. It has come slowly with little consistency and massive amounts of determination, stamina, and a reassuring trust in the universe. But the idea of adulthood has slipped its way into my expanding comfort zone with ease, which I think has come from the preparation I received throughout my childhood. The importance of perseverance and hard work in achieving anything at all was beyond emphasized in the parenting techniques of my immigrant mother and father. They sent the babies straight from their unemployed bellies into the best forms of higher education they could find because
My achieving of adulthood was more of just a gradual shift in mentality and perspective that developed into my addiction to change and new experiences, distaste for dependence, and denial of my previous nostalgic tendencies.
With more maturity also came a more logical understanding of the world around me. The more I understood the working ways of my surroundings, physical and psychological, the better I could feel my drive to achieve. The achievement I sought was not economic or career oriented in any aspect. It was based off of my ceaseless search for something new or for the rad or for the gnar or for swagger or for living a life that could inspire a minimum of 3 people including myself. The seed of this search was planted in me during my childhood by my five older siblings who all held within their bellies a fire of the same breed.

"Wander a whole summer if you can. The time will not be taken from the sum of life. Instead of shortening, it will indefinitely lengthen it and make you truly immortal." John Muir

"we change. whether we like it or not."

There is a small stallion in me that kicks at my stomach linings when i remain stationary too long. Not physically stationary, but stationary in life. He isn't named because I have yet to fully understand him enough, but I know that his endurance has pushed me far beyond my limits and therefore destroyed them.
By taming that stallion, I am allowing myself to remain wild. I am using my understanding of myself to take the reins and pursue what needs pursuing.
It has allowed me to rise from my greatest wrecks and the most deadly of wreckage not unscathed but changed and always for the better.

I am a messy person. I find it difficult to keep blank pages clean and the colors inside the lines. I spill myself all too often into the things I create and the people I meet. I have lost myself more than a few times when looking for trivialities. But despite my lack of organization, I have a moral compass that does not flutter in the wind, pointing due north and I have a loyalty to myself and to the bettering of the world that is unwavering.I am using my understanding of myself to take the reins and pursue what needs pursuing.
It has allowed me to rise from my greatest wrecks and the most deadly of wreckage not unscathed but changed and always for the better.


I could go and invent a pizza pouch that allows your pizza slice to be easy access and even more portable and I would probably make millions, but what good would that do than just encourage people's laziness and immediate pleasures?

The only way to avoid criticism is to be nothing, do nothing, change nothing, and even then people will still call you boring. Let the criticism come, the hatred too, it means you're doing something.

I've found that the key to success in any endeavor is making the conscious decision to make it happen, whatever it is and no matter what may happen to you along the way. It is that and then to be stubborn about it, but flexible with your methods.


I was once dared to lick the ski lift pole in a -20 degree blizzard. Anyone who has been to elementary school is fully aware of the seriousness behind a dare. A dare is no joke, though we may laugh at it. A dare is a binding agreement with the gods and also the demons that you will fulfill your destiny and display your loyalty to your friends. Even more of a contract is the double-dog dare.
Dare's taught me the true meaning of going the whole way, of not backing out, of committing.
Through habitual practice, dares established a long-term mentality for me. As I moved away from home and was on my own, there were not always others to dare me to do things I was hesitant to do. I began daring myself and growing more courageous with each one. They got bigger and more serious as I grew older. From "I dare you to pick your nose" to "I dare you to climb that mountain" to "I dare you to follow your dreams"
Because of dares, I can go all the way with the little things and now I know how to go all the ******* way with what actually matters.
I dare you to never give up.




I entered with hesitancy, being so accustomed to the confidence that comes with spontaneity, I did not know how not to overthink my decision to leave home when given months to ponder it. I entered as a sheep, but I left a lion.

I've got intelligence and ambition that I trust in myself. It has gotten me this far, and I know it's not tired yet.  

I’ve been lonesome with the wandering blues many times, because I’ve got little birds in my chest playing the prettiest songs in hopes I’ll let them out to fly.

To start at the origin...At the ripe and ready age of zero, I learned my first lesson: how to swim. It was a skill that came quickly with the aid of physics and physical movement. My second lesson came moments after, when I realized that I existed and through existing, even some what illegitimately, I had an impact on the world. My learning how to swim brought warm hands to my walls and giggly whispers into my ears, which was a clearly positive response to my personal growth and an awareness of my presence. Even prior to my existence as a zygote, the knowledge of my potential future existence altered the decisions my parents made and the course in which they chose to steer their lives. A person cannot ever be limited or demoralized if there is the understanding that they have, and everyone has, the power to make an impact on a world they are not even existing within yet.
  Now all of this knowledge was contained subconsciously in my head somewhere, but upon its eventual conscious realization I then understood the reason behind the unwavering, childish, disbelieving enthusiasm that I was born with and that applied to everything I had ever and will ever encounter.

Let me reassure you on some facts:

This little **** we call life
Will *** on your carpet and
Have a weird obsession with trying to bite your boyfriend’s **** off.
But you will love it anyways,
Because it sometimes does nice things like
Cuddle up to you when you’re sad that your boyfriend doesn’t have a ***** anymore.

This life will stalk you on a seemingly pleasant night
And this life will hit you.
Hard.
When you’re least expecting it.
Then as it is flashing in front of your eyes,
Your life will mug you
And take all of your money.
After it all, you may be scarred, you may be hurt, you may be bankrupt…
But that pain may get you thinking, learning, questioning
And someday you may realize that
In life,
The kisses last much longer than the bruises do.
The laughter is much louder than the cries.
And the boyfriend is much better than the *****.

He fired cannons until the dogs barked, and then he would shoot one more just in case a chihuahua missed the first 5 shots and still wanted to join in on the chorus. He owned fate and destiny, they did not own him. So much that he could pull me through time and have everything his way. He spoke a language no one in town knew and it made him lonely that no one even tried to understand, but by god I am trying to understand...but it takes time, he is not just from around the corner. I have never felt the tug of mischief and spontaneity so strongly as I did when he pulled my arm. I was in love with another boy, but if I had had my heart on me I would have given it to him that night, and then asked for it back in the morning. I know he would not have known what to do with it for much longer than that, he might misplace it and i don't want that. He doesn't need to feel guilty for anything. I want to tell him thanks for stirring my soup before I boiled over, but I couldn't tell him that without wishing that he would stick around to try a spoonful.

Grab a hand
There are many searching for yours
reach down,
your hand will find nothing in the clouds
pull them
the sky is blue because of you
you yearn
but asked for it to be easy
but help
and you will find it reciprocated
see them
so much potential if only they had you
bring happiness
theirs will bring yours
smile wide
there's no reason for half-assing it
dont worry
not all rewards are immediate and when they are hard
cry loud
what did i say about half-assing
but hope
because it's all just a wheel and you will be back on top
dont fret
you'll be just fine