In the dead of night,. I find myself.
Still in the reverie of my ambitions,
Such wonderous dreams flow through me
Like the blood in my tempestuous veins.
Ah, how can one be caught in a web of despair?
While on the pursuit of victory?
I throw long blows and strikes with one smile,
Out reveals a mouth full of blood and broken teeth.
Falling and tapping the cold, wet ground like rain in springtime
I am the maniac of mastery, who believes in luck and good fortune
If you love someone, always express that love. It does notmatter how silly it makes you look or how afraid you may feel. Let it out and let it go. That love you share may keep someone alive, beal them, and maybe it maky help them love themselves and others.
And in that moment, I hope someone expresses their love to you.
Love is everything
The day begins.
God breathes through me.
I exhale a sigh of relief.
That I can live for another day.
Kindness is not always about being agreeable or universally liked. There will be moments when others oppose you, challenge your beliefs, and question your abilities, integrity, and character. In these moments, you must stand firm and move forward. True kindness is demonstrated by standing up against injustice and facing inequities head-on. It’s about breaking the mold, choosing to persevere through hardship, and refusing to back down in the face of obstacles or adversity. Being kind often times mean doing the difficult things.
Real change is rarely achieved through mere pleasantries—it requires courage and conviction. Often, kindness is revealed in one’s willingness to sacrifice and lose so that others may gain something. It is the ability to plant trees knowing that you may never sit under them to enjoy its fruit or the shade from its leaves.
The journey of self-improvement begins with the courage to fully acknowledge your pain. To sit with the weight of what you’ve endured and recognize that it shaped you, but does not define you. Every scar, every fear, every insecurity traces back to moments you survived, doing the best you could with what you had. It was never your fault, but it is your responsibility to choose how you move forward. To heal, to grow, to rewrite the path ahead—free from the shadows of trauma, fear, and doubt.
As you evolve, remember to grant yourself grace. Transformation is not linear, nor is it easy. Not everyone will understand the depth of your struggles or the battles you’ve fought within. But they will witness your becoming—your radiant, unapologetic authenticity. Stay gentle with yourself, for in that gentleness lies immense strength. You are not just healing; you are reclaiming your power, one step at a time.
I want to be okay…
With my friends and family
With a job that I love that sustains me and allows me to take care of myself.
With my art and passions.
With a partner or partners that loves me.
With good food and great travels
With an abundance of lessons and wisdom.
I want to be human…
And completely happy.
One day
One step
One smile
One kiss
One thank you
One conversation
One hug
One dream
One dollar
One moment
One I love you...
At a time.
You will get there.
My body, my mind, my spirit…
They are my home. A sacred space, a temple, a refuge. This is where I find peace, face challenges, and grow into the best version of myself. Because this home is so precious, I must cherish it. I must protect it, nurture it, and honor everything I allow within its walls.
I only have one home, one vessel to carry me through this life. It deserves my love, my time, and my care. It deserves to be fortified with strength, nourished with vitality, and softened with tenderness.
This home is my foundation, my sanctuary. And because I plan to be here a long time, I will ensure it carries me forward with grace.
This morning, I dropped off my car at the repair shop. It seemed like an ordinary errand until I stepped into the facility and noticed a man lying on a leather couch shaped into a car. He clutched something folded tightly in his hand, a quiet tension in his posture.
He sat up when he heard me, adjusting himself quickly. “Can I help you?” he asked, his voice steady but guarded.
I smiled. “I’m here to drop off my car.”
He nodded and rose, moving carefully. “Let me get the owner for you. he’s with another customer right now. In the meantime, could you sign in at the desk?”
“Of course,” I said. “And thank you for being here.”
His name is Scott.
As he fumbled to find a pen, I noticed one sitting right in front of him, untouched.
“Oh,” he said, almost embarrassed. “I didn’t see that.” He paused. “I’m still figuring things out.”
I glanced at the object in his hand and immediately understood. It was a collapsible cane, brand new, without a single scratch.
I softened my voice. “About being a person with low vision?”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah… but I can still see a little bit.”
“That’s good,” I replied gently. “And it’s okay.”
After signing in, I took a seat by the front desk, my coat and hat in my lap, and stared out the window for a moment before adding, “I’m a person with low vision too. I have diabetic retinopathy, and I’m slowly losing my sight. I may not fully understand what you’re going through, but I do understand and I’m dee[;y sorry.”
He sat down across from me, his head bowed. “It’s life,”
And then he began to share.
He told me about his father, who lost his vision after surgery. He spoke about his own story. How his vision had once been restored after surgeries, only to fade away again in mere hours.
“Three hours,” he said, his voice breaking. “That’s all it took to take so much from me.”
I didn’t press, but he kept going, as if the words had been waiting for someone to hear them.
He told me about his fiancée, how she had left him almost immediately after he lost his sight. She wasn’t prepared for the life they now faced. She took what she could, left him with almost nothing.
His voice cracked when he spoke about losing his dog, the one constant companion he had and the child he helped raise, a little girl with cerebral palsy. He lost them all in one sweep, along with his sense of control to see.
I listened. I didn’t interrupt. Sometimes, the best thing you can do for someone is to let them be heard.
He talked about the financial weight of vision loss and the staggering costs of adaptive tools like seeing-eye dogs and assistive glasses. I shared my own experience, spending thousands on injections just to hold onto what little vision I have left.
Despite everything he had endured, he told me he felt grateful. He had found work at the shop, a safe place to stay for now, and even a new girlfriend who seemed to see him for who he was beyond his disability.
“Scott,” I said. “You’ll always have options, and I pray the best ones find you. No matter what you’re going through, you have the power to do good for yourself and to help others too.”
“Thank you,” he said. “For listening. For seeing me.”
We sat in silence for a moment until the owner arrived to assist me.
I turned around to Leave and I looked at Scott “Thank you for being here, Scott. I see you, and I support you. One day at a time, you’re going to be okay.”
He grabbed me by my haand and looked me directly in my eyes. Face to face.
“I see you too,” he said.
Constant labor is the law of both art and life, for art is the creative expression of the mind. Great artists do not wait for commissions or clients; instead, they create tirelessly—day after day. This ceaseless effort cultivates a habit of toil and a perpetual awareness of the challenges inherent in their craft. It binds them in a lasting union with their muse, sustaining their creative energies and driving their work forward
I wanted to reach out today because you’ve been on my mind. I felt the need to check in, even though deep down, I already know you may not write back. And that’s okay.
I know life has its way of keeping us occupied… sometimes too much, sometimes not enough. I know you’ve been needing space, and I respect that. I understand you may not feel ready yet. Or maybe something deeper is holding you back from responding.
Whatever it is, I hope you find clarity. I hope you uncover whatever has been standing between you and the people who love you—those who continue to wait patiently for your return, for your words, for any sign that you’re still there. We miss you, deeply and sincerely. But more than anything, we hope you’re okay.
And maybe… just maybe…that thing holding you back is as simple as you moving on. If that’s the case, I want you to know that’s okay too. Moving on doesn’t mean forgetting, and it certainly doesn’t mean being forgotten.
Wherever you are, whatever you’re going through, I hope you’re taking care of yourself. That’s what matters most.
Always here,
Teacoa
The smell of greens cooking on the stove
Receiving a text message from a dear friend.
The warmth that comes from the sun in the morning
Learning something new
Finding a photo that really makes you feel something
I abandoned it.
Not for lack of desire to press forward
Or to build anew.
I released the need to imagine
So I could be sober
In the labor of healing.
Vague suspicions creep
Through the reverie of ambition.
And I…
I am left
Crippled by the quiet tremors of anxiety:
To wonder
What if?
What’s next?
What now?
Keep going. Keep living, and keep doing your best. I am so proud of how far you’ve come. Proud of your courage, your growth, and your ability to love so deeply. I admire the way you’ve stood up for yourself, embraced healing, and learned to let go.
I know it still hurts sometimes, but look at how much progress you’ve made. You are stronger than you realize. I love you, and I’m so grateful that you’re here. Even if you feel alone right now, please remember that so many people are cheering for you and believing in you.
You are going to be ooky.
With love,
Teacoa.
IV
I will hold your name
Until my last breath fades out
This is my promise.
To honor you, to witness,
To watch you rise and be free
V
You are listening.
How my voice turns into calm,
Soft waves of solace.
Here, you are safe to wander,
Open-hearted into joy.
VI
I wait for the day
I can hold you close again,
To celebrate you.
Each day blooms like a blessing
Where you live as your true self
Broken reflections
Shards of the unspoken truth
I hold the mirror
Revealing the ugliness
And kissing your most true self
I remember being in 3rd grade, waking up at 5 a.m. to leave for school by 6 for violin lessons. It was an exciting time. Playing the violin would be my first experience with a musical instrument. The district had just introduced a music program for young students to learn string instruments, and I was one of 80 kids eager to participate.
Sitting in the auditorium with my classmates, I learned how to hold the violin, maintain proper posture, and read music. It was fascinating, but as the days passed, the enthusiasm of others began to fade. First, half of the students dropped out. Then, weeks later, I was the only one left.
I found myself waking up early to practice alone, rehearsing in an empty auditorium with just my teacher. There was no audience, no spectators, no one to witness my efforts. At the time, I didn’t realize this solitude was teaching me a foundational lesson.
As I grew older, that sense of loneliness followed me into my work; whether it was art, dance, or other pursuits. Friends weren’t around to see the effort I poured in, the hours of labor behind the scenes. Even when I completed something, there was no one to share the fruits of my work with. It felt like a constant cycle: plan, practice, execute, repeat.
Fortunately, I loved what I was doing, and that passion kept me going. But deep down, I yearned for someone to see me, to recognize my efforts. Still, I stayed focused, working in solitude like a caterpillar in its chrysalis, growing and preparing for something bigger.
Then the moment came. Back in school, I performed my first concert for the district in front of a large audience. Later, I joined the regional symphony for young students. The hard work paid off, and for the first time, I felt truly seen. It was a joy like no other. I continued to pursue music, and to this day, I still play.
Looking back, I realize those early years taught me an important truth: you have to do the work even when no one is watching. The chrysalis must break for the butterfly to emerge, and that process requires patience, focus, and perseverance. You can’t worry too much about who is or isn't watching.
Even now, as an adult, I remind myself of this lesson. For years, I felt like a failure as an artist because no one was viewing, responding to, or buying my work. I questioned whether I was good enough or working hard enough. I compared myself to others who seemed more successful and doubted my path.
But the truth is, the work is the preparation. Just like my 3rd-grade violin lessons, I’ve learned to work as though the audience is there.Even when the room is empty. You will be alone for a moment.
Because one day, the audience will come. The grand performance is in preparation, and I am ready and willing. I’m on the right path.
The thing about love is that the moment you love someone, a new life begins. It’s a birth of connection, filled with joy and wonder, yet shadowed by the inevitability of endings. You come to realize that no matter how beautiful or profound, every love story is fleeting. Perhaps you’ll grow apart, paths diverging as time wears on. Or perhaps, despite your hopes, your hearts were never truly aligned.
In some way, you understand that this exhilarating journey, launched with such adventurous promise, will someday end. And as you revel in the bliss of the present, a quiet fear creeps in. The knowledge that the one voyage you wish could last forever will eventually reach its final destination.
It can be identified and defined From the atoms, to the many planets and stars in the universe Everything has it place and has its purpose. And when they are put together. There are catastrophic events. We are fully special and have significant value
Our existence is beautiful.
Dear, Teacoa
I know you are feeling overwhelmed by depression right now, I want you to know you're not alone. It might feel like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, but there’s no shame in struggling. This moment doesn’t define you. Depression is like a storm. It clouds everything, makes you feel stuck. But just like storms, it won’t last forever. The sun will come back, even if you can’t see it now.
If today feels too heavy, that’s okay. You don’t need to climb mountains or solve everything all at once. Just focus on one thing. One small step—getting out of bed, drinking water, texting a friend. Small wins matter.You are not your depression. It might try to convince you otherwise, but it doesn’t speak the truth about your worth, your potential, or your future.
Please, if you can, reach out to someone. A friend, family member, therapist, or support hotline. Sharing how you feel isn’t a burden on others; it’s a brave act of connection.
Always remember that healing takes time, and that’s okay. Be patient with yourself. There’s no timeline for feeling better, and progress isn’t always linear. But you are so worthy of the journey to better days.
Even in the dark, there are people who care about you deeply, whether they’ve told you recently or not. You matter. Your presence in this world is important.
I know how strong and aware that you are You’ve already taken a step toward hope. Hold onto that. There’s strength in seeking out support, even through a tweet. You’re stronger than you think.and your people love you so incredibly much.
One day, this storm will pass, and you’ll look back and see how far you’ve come. Until then, hold on. You’re worth fighting for. Always.
Sending you all the love, patience, and hope in the world. You are not alone.
Keep going.
Self.
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