tim buckley


manages the pull.subsides the fear.remains the focus.quiets the space.with a blanketing lull.leveling out.the slightest tides.waves discerning.the whites of the wash.fortifying their race.to the other side.the darkest face.of the still moon.

the night does its best.to sing of peace.while grumbles in my belly.echo.

me to sleep.


51.5074° N, 0.1278° W

Finally made it over.


Drastic changes are better without any expectations — which is why I overreach.

I’ve been lost in a city before, traveling and site-seeing alone, so the newness isn’t something intimidating to me.

But being lost and site-seeing in one of the largest cities in the world is definitely a change. I feel parts of Chicago and New York for sure, but add those together and throw in a large, bustling and alley-only Chinatown, the most amount of languages spoken you’d ever hear in one day, 2-leveled busses with three stops every mile (or every 1.609344km), the classic/modern/gothic/renaissance/art deco architecture and the robust history behind the country and I think it’s London.

But what do I know…I’ve only been here for 6 days.




The fortitude of my emotions strangles the process. How do I back down to then prevail?

The division between the internal and the external can be the line. Mining all my worry into dust. The sifting of sorrow — breaking thoughts, shaken clean.

So maybe that time is now, to belly-up the divide.

I’m holding the guilt of my mother — I can curve that into the light.

And the weight of my lover…I have to give up sight and find our freedom in trust.

I’m screaming out the silence of my feel — a multi-directional break. How it takes so much more to control.

So I gather myself at the window, perched high and at noon. The brightest star, traveling through. Blinding me still.

“Just take me with you,” I pray. Hoping to scare myself free.

So now, I document.

I believe I’m going to London to attend Goldsmiths University to study sonic arts. I say “I believe” because I have a few more hoops to jump through to make sure I’m able to go (financing/visa). But I’ve been accepted and will be there for a year. It’s a switch/a jump/the difference between light and dark/near and far/zero and one.

But I struggle with it. I struggle with it because it’s a risk. Which pushes me to go even more. And I’m not sure, but I might not be going alone, which would double the risk in so many directions. Either way, it’s a definitive mark, which makes me feel more and more that I have to go.