I’m constantly trying to understand the art of my own unbalanced mind. Like how my favorite color is grey yet I perceive everything as either black or white. White usually wins. But then white often fades quickly to black. I avoid reliving my darker days but it seems to recycle itself like all the past lovers I can’t let go of. Maybe one day I will. But for now, I belong to myself and they all belong to me too. My twelve year old soul wouldn’t like that concept. She’d be lost in confusion and translation of who I’ve shifted into. Everything was simple..... and everything should be simple. But she hasn’t seen the things I’ve seen. She hasn’t felt the things I felt. And still through all the gloomy days I try to keep her alive. She’s still in here somewhere... lost and waiting to circle back. It’s funny how i forget who I am just to fully become myself again. Just to resurrect. Just to wake up something in me. And through all the smoke, I enjoy being lost. All the scenery.. all the people.. all the lessons.. I’ll be fully myself soon. Maybe a few more pains. Maybe a few more wins.

Cam Bui