Journals

The Three Disciplines I think, so the torch does not flicker. I wait, so the seed may root. I fast, so another may eat. This is no magic. It is…

The moment two torches crossed, setting fire to a vision that would one day become MRNTU.The café hummed with quiet energy, the kind of place where revolutionaries came to scribble…

There’s a fig tree outside my grandmother’s house that’s older than her. She says its roots know secrets. Today, I sit under it, writing notes between birdsong and afternoon wind.…