I stumbled upon this video by accident and it was just what I needed right now. College is coming soon and the immense pressure of decision making time has arrived. “We’d like to be painters, we’d like to be writers, but as everybody knows, you can’t earn money that way.” As a child, the question of what we want to be when we grow up seems to get asked a lot. “What would you do if money were no object?” Answers flow out like ink on a piece of paper; a ballerina, a cowboy, a singer, a doctor, a professional baseball player. “How would you really enjoy spending your life? “ With time, we get older and the answers change. Reality kicks in and there becomes no difference between being an ambitious dreamer and being foolishly unrealistic. “If you say that getting the money is the most important thing, you will spend your life completely wasting your time.” When asked the same question I had been asked a hundred times, my answer changed as I got older. …

March is always filled with madness- good and bad- in more ways than just basketball games. In LA, the sun finally came out and it gave us that taste of summer we so needed. March felt like a letter goodbye to winter and a smiley hello to spring. These are some different things I loved this March. For that Creative Energy: Get Glittery – In the words of Emma Mercury, “I don’t even really consider glitter to be makeup, it’s more an accessory, or maybe it’s a lifestyle. The trick is to apply just enough that you look like a mysterious celestial babe and not like a five year old in a craft cabinet- unless it’s a music festival, then its required to roll naked in glitter before you head out the  door.”   Get On Pinterest– It’s not just a website for 40 year old moms to make arts and crafts projects for their eight year old kid, I promise. When I feel trapped inside my own head I have a need to create. Pinterest is filled with …

Anxiety and depression. Mental illness plays the role of the huge, wobbling, grey elephant in the room of our society. We all deal with both these problems to some extent. For some people, like myself, it’s an every day battle. But no one talks about it. A lot of people who don’t have mental illness or haven’t experienced it at some point in their lives don’t understand the severity of it, they think that it only exists in your head. You throw yourself an every day pity party and you’re the only one who bothers to show up. If you can’t see it, it’s not there. If you aren’t limping or squinting your black eye, the suffering is nonexistent. Recently, I’ve been struggling more than normal. I wish I could say that it’s a recent development, but it’s something I’ve struggled with for a long time. After years of keeping quiet, I’m here to skip the small talk. This isn’t for attention. I’m here to be genuine. I’m here to be real in a society …

    Hues of purple green and red dance around the ceiling, moving in and out of kaleidoscope figures. Four wandering minds but no one is speaking. Quiet hums of the song Drunk and with Dreams plays in the background. The moment is like a dream. The room is a grey cloud of smoke. A velvet couch softly kissing my skin. I feel as if I am fading into the milk plaster walls. When it quiets down, the moment takes on the loudest voice. Four hearts beating to the same song. A cool breeze slips through the window and I’m reminded that it’s February. The aroma of burnt popcorn doesn’t bother me anymore. “When I hear a song, I see colors,” Connor says quietly. “I see images and pictures. Moments of my life.” The candle burning on the table next to us flickers. It’s strange how each one of us had seen such different things in our short lives but we are all so present in one piece of time together. Our bodies, physically there next …