I Published a Poetry Book – Here’s What I’ve Learned

I miss this blog. God, I do. But I thank it for being a starting point and helping me with writing a book.

My book West 24th Street was recently published. It’s a collection of intimate poems that speak of my pain and joy. And the sweet, sweet stuff in the middle. Poems range from your standard “I miss him/her/them” to “Autistic Black women are routinely targeted by capitalism”.

Book is here for whoever is interested. International folk – here is the Amazon link. Cheers!

Here’s what I’ve learned:

  1. The hardest part may be formatting. Find an editor or pay a friend who can help you with this. It is not worth the stress.
  2. If your goal is constant sales and people raving over your book: it won’t happen.
  3. Pay attention to how your poems read overall. Order of content matters more than you think. This was my biggest regret.
  4. That quirky, cryptic title that means something to you and someone else probably isn’t the best title choice. When published, books are the readers’. It is not just your story anymore.
  5. It’s always going to need “improvement”. Even years later. Just freakin’ publish it.
  6. You may find yourself reconsidering your close circle based off they act when it’s said and done.
  7. Do not share your book with current work colleagues – especially if it’s intimate. They may love it, yes. Is it a professional relationship still, though?
  8. If self-publishing, do your research on your distributor. You deserve higher royalties.
  9. Not everyone will be excited for you. That is ok. It hurts, but it is ok.
  10. As a Black woman, it’s easy to feel your story isn’t worthy. The gag? Your story is the worthiest of all to be heard.

Release Expectations

Sometime’s we focus on the small picture, obliviously mistaken for the larger picture. Sometimes we read the footnotes, thinking it is all we need. Our timeline has made it us perceive rushing through experiences to be an essential way of being. This hasty way of thinking does not serve. Another aspect of acting with intentions of obtaining a summary is labeling. We might see ’11:11′ on the clock, immediately classifying the meaning of your soulmate being on the way. We may run into past soul ties,it must being we need to reconcile, right? Also, false.

Signs, past returns, synchronicity, and the like can easily fall into the trap our ego sets up. Any sign, no matter the context, is just a sign. We will find out the significance for this experience, in time. Our ego feeds off experiences by limiting their beauty into a confined box. It is the child in the car, eager. Unable to control their curiosity, until they know where they’re going. The ego falls into a state of loneliness and lack when it does not label. When it does not see the end route as soon as the journey begins. The ego cannot, and will not, wait.

Pisces season is the time where mutable water runs deep, through cracks and hollows. It illuminates the hidden, good or bad. With Mercury stationing retrograde on March 5th, we will be asked to re-assess. Re-assess what was once buried, re-asses where we have fallen into the trap of labeling. Re-assess where we are illusory. This new moon in Pisces (just a day later after Retrograde begins). The new moon in Pisces combined with the crackled, misunderstood communication in lieu of the retrograde, provides the perfect environment for labeling. The perfect environment of tricking ourselves into escapism, we will be tempted to just read the book cover – not the chapters.

Take this time to abstain from assigning meaning to what enters your life during this month. Take time to abstain from reaching out to those who have hurt you, communication will not be optimal. Take time to be patient. Pisces season will open your capacity for self-exploration in many domains – make sure to flow with the water and not let it drown you.

Listen, it’s here.

Peridot – the lime-green lattice stares back to my transmitters.
Their cocoa tint analyze molecular carbon formations.
My oxygenated cells mimic the Peridot hue and scent – only at a lower frequency.
The yin and yang – spiritually clings to the notes of physicality.
It’s funny, actually.

The Universe surrounds its light of etheral goodness around you, a sheath cauterizing the mutualism between the tangible and the Unseen.
Meanwhile,,, I sit in a dark corner wondering where my blessings have vanished to.

‘Look around, child. Blessings radiate around your soul.’

— sa

To Those Who Are A Little Sad in Autumn

Dear you,

It seems as if the cool forecast travels deep into your bones, surpassing your muscular tissue, surpassing your stability.. it travels down to where it truly hurts. Of course, you fight it. How can you let the mere weather threaten all of the work you’ve done? Those countless nights spent in the dark: analyzing those gritty parts no one wants to look at. Wondering why you could have possibly messed up your past. Ripping apart those old templates of yourself. That shit takes work… and not the kind anyone can possibly enjoy until they’re finished. Looking back on the project you’ve started called yourself, overjoyed that you’ve made it.

But that damn cold weather. It challenges you to question your hard-earned work. It challenges that adult that resides within you, tempting the id child to lash out once again. In short, it challenges you.

So, this is for all of us who struggle when the temperature drops. This is for the warriors, the once who are terrified at the thought of relapsing. Let me tell you a secret, love: life is cyclical. Better yet, within those cycles are waves of highs and lows. Neither can be avoided, neither can be prolonged more than you can handle. Particles of the sun are made of you, just like particles of Pluto are made of you. The balance of these energies becomes the goal.

Sending my support for those affected, your hard work has and never will be shed.

Yours truly x

Do You Remember the 21st of September?

Goodbye, August. You carried me through the waves of life, cycles that were re-opened and re-closed. I could tell you wanted to end so quickly, what were you running from? Or running towards? Perhaps, you just wanted peace. Anyways, your hastiness caused an upheaval of spiraling emotions within us all. We were all individuals bits of the salad, molecular components of: tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, dressing. You were the tongs. Your control frightened us, to be frank.

We ask ourselves, on the 27th of August, what lessons have we learned as a whole? What lessons were customarily engraved just for me? For one, the whole needed their realities questioned. They ask, “Is this what truly makes me happy?”, “Am I on the right path?”, “Why do I feel off about XYZ?”.

I ask, “What do I stand for?”.

Truth. Grounded stability. Changes that better support my foundation, not falter it. In this month, my emotions could not keep a grasp on  a singular stance. Fleeting in all directions, in all vibrations. Today, I feel more different than I have in my 21 years of such a short life. No longer do I leave ellipses for the unknown. No longer am I unable to embody concrete establishments. No longer do I waver. Today, on the 27th of August, I answer myself: my truth is unraveling. A red carpet runway calling out my name to walk upon. Integrating with what I have striven for. And yet, the journey has just begun.


So, I welcome the 21st of September. I welcome stability. I welcome knowing what I resonate with and what does not resonate with my inner being. I welcome love, friendships, future prospects. I welcome Earth, Wind, & Fire.



for you, to you

speckles of warm melodies revolve around your etheric body

they hum the thoughts you were never able to voice

their sad tunes reflect

regret, loss, defeat.

all i wanted.

but then, the cello beams brilliantly

its strong hues reckon truth be revealed.

expansive. Jupiter.

you know damn well.

these are the melodies your soul sings

these are the hymns i hear, my bird.

these are the

confessions of your love.

do not fret,

i can see you.


– SA

Stacy: The Odd One Out

This is Stacy’s Story:


I was born in South Korea, came to the states at seven years old. I spent majority of my life in the states. I lived in Fort Worth then moved to a small town called Mineral Wells and continued my middle school education and there onward.

I had a hard a time growing up because racism and never-ending bullying. During the hard times, my goal was to go to UT and make my parents proud. We came to the States w nothing but a vision for a greater life for me and my younger sister. It was incredibly hard for them, to have nothing and come to the US and build a foundation for 20 years.

In High School, no one can relate to me. We were the only Asians and no one in our world wanted to know anything outside of their tiny, little boxes.

I was very naive and quiet… socially awkward. Reason I got bullied, was because the town was very conservative and in the middle of no where. My parents had a business and did well, but i never flaunted what we had. My materials (school supplies, clothes, anything else) were cheap and mostly consisted of savings, yet others assumed I had money and gave me shit for it. Bullying happened because I was different, yet was able to get what I needed. They didn’t accept me.



There was definitely a cultural difference. The town is low class and has a lot of drugs, very poor town with low education.  I was bullied because I had a different culture and it was also jealousy because I  did well in primary school without much effort. College was different story, I struggled so much with academics and my future. In High School, it was different.

I was in ESL for three years, English is my second language.  Before I moved to Mineral Wells, people liked me in elementary. Mainly because I grew up in Fort Worth city. I was surrounded by Blacks, Latinos, Asians. I fit in there.

It was interesting in my small town, seeing minority ‘fit in’ in fear of also being ridiculed by the white population. They ‘acted’ white and ridiculed me also. Which is funny, because our struggles were similar. They had the  ‘be with them rather than against them’ mentality. I think the racism I encountered by the white population was mainly because my family was stable despite the trouble, we were grounded and had a good future in terms of education. The town was poor, but my parents sacrificed so much. They also gained a lot to help us achieve an education.

My reaction to bullying: I went into my shell and it hindered me when I was younger because I was ultra-sensitive. Got made of for my real name (Seung yeon), things a child shouldn’t ever have to go through. How awful is it to deal with being made of for something I had no control over?



I was able to overcome the hardships and it made me grow because at home I had a solid family  foundation. It obviously hurt my folks, but we stuck together, along with my little sister.

My sisters class was different, they liked her. They thought of her as ‘fascinating’ because she was unique and the ‘girl from a different country’.

In middle school, people were nice but spread rumors.  Shit like ‘she told this person this’, childish things and I was the target.

What hurt me most: this one girl everyone disliked got popular, she then made people turn their backs on me. I never talked shit or looked down on her. It’s almost like her subconscious needed to place blame on someone else (me) to take the target off her back and keep her popularity.


I tried laughing with them than be laughed at, but it got old. I was bad at confrontation and showed me emotions too much. Me crying easily was a joke to them.

Now at 26, those experiences helped me realize some things you can’t take too serious and how to protect myself from those experiences again. I’m better at standing my ground but still am ‘very weak and sensitive’. It helped me not judge people by the book and get to know them. Because I had that happen to me. I was that girl, so I try not engage in the same rude behavior.”


Fragments of My Never-Ending Thoughts

Today’s post won’t revolve around anything collective. Monday’s are more personal to me. Today, I will release my inner chaos.

I feel as if I am carrying 21 years of pain, loss, and ache. Coincidentally, I also feel like I am carrying the burdens of those I interact with. God, I hate being an empath.

Today, I sit and ponder. My heart feels an intensity, a tension. Sort of like a rubber band that is stretched to the point of maximum capability. The worst part? I know now is not the time to absolve this heavy weight. There are lessons still to be learned.

Past mistakes, past pains, past lovers, past friendships, past versions of myself. All knocking on my front door, asking to be re-examined. Asking for me to feel their loss all over again. Asking to invade. In response, I tell them I have let go. I have forgiven myself and all those who have hurt me. I have accepted where I am is where I am meant to be in time and space. I have nothing but love for my past. Somehow, my heart has lingering energies. It’s a wounded warrior, seeking asylum. I sometimes wonder if this loss will always reside with me, is it what makes me me?


To add on to this overwhelming eclipse energy, I feel as if I’m waiting on a change in my life. Not stagnation, but anticipation. I anticipate news, revolution, a newer perspective. Ask me if I love the 7 of pentacles energy….

Mani, A Dear Friend

This is Mani, a friend I’ve known for over an year. Funnily enough, I didn’t get to hear about his most personal experiences until recently. Today, he’s offered to be my first participate of my HONY-esque blog series. I am starting off with gathering personal tales of closed ones and then venturing out to strangers.


Here is his story:

“I skipped high school at 16. Been in the US since I was 16, living alone with no family. My parents and brother have lived in Dubai majority of their lives.

I’ve been through a lot of shit, Shams. I was fired from the gas station I worked at 19 years old. Was a month and a half without a job. Moved to Fort Worth, found a job at another gas station. Lived in a motel, alone. Got accused of stealing money at the new job, 2 weeks later fired again for false accusation. I felt completely alone. It’s scary not having people to rely on. With whatever money I had, I spent on living expenses at motel. After that ran out, I was out on the streets….

One of the most peaceful experiences in my entire life, gave me an entirely new perspective on life. With the struggles you can overcome. It was dead in the winter in Texas, which is fucking cold, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. The first night I was homeless, slept at the public library. Found a plug and charged my phone to talk to my folks overseas with the free Wifi. They didn’t know I was homeless, to this day, six years later, they don’t know I was homeless and madly depressed at one point. Stayed there for a second night, needed a cigarette to cope with the pain. Bummed one from a stranger, turns out it was K2. I talked to the man, explained how I was homeless after losing my job. He offered to let me stay at his home in Lancaster, Fort Worth. If you don’t know anything about Lancaster, just know it is the ghetto of the city.

The home was four bedrooms but empty; only 2 mattresses and a couch. I didn’t want to know what he did for a living.


The K2 hits and I panic, worried I may be killed or robbed – despite not having any goddamn possessions. Slept with one eye open, wary of what was gonna happen. Next morning, he wasn’t there and I bolted out of there. Walked around Fort Worth and explored my options.

“Why was it the most peaceful experience?”, I ask.

It was the most peaceful because I didn’t have any worries: I had hit my lowest point – rock bottom. ‘Fuck it’, I said.  It humbled me trying to find meals or deciding if I should skip food for the day. I didn’t feel less of a man or badly for myself, in that moment: I told myself I wouldn’t hit this low of rock bottom ever again. Pulled myself out of that situation and started working daily 14 hours a day and saved money. Found an apartment and met my future wife.


As if right now, my two kids are young and in-between homes with me and my ex-wife. I’m not sure how that experience will shape their future and how I’ll raise them. But, I know I’ll always watch out for their happiness. My daughter around me has a different personality than with her mother and boyfriend. It kind of scares me, honestly. When they grow up, I’ll always be there for them. Advise them and support them, but I’ll be adamant to make sure they make decisions alone and deal with the consequences to their actions. Anyone really, needs to learn whatever actions they take have consequences – good or bad. Whether you’re religious or not, morality and being a good person is far better than being a discriminating religious person. I’m trying to teach them to be the best they can and be themselves fully.


Whenever my daughter is in the hospital for her disease, she asks about the other kids in the ICU. I told her about the nurses and how doctors help people, she replied, “I wanna help people”, despite being only three years old. That meant a lot, she’s a good big sister. Watching out for her brother, who’s only an year old and taking care of him. 

When you take the pictures, I hope my parents don’t see this. They still don’t know I smoke.”