The Fate of Everything

It’s hard to imagine…

The fate of Mankind…

Resting on the shoulders of those who are alive Now.

If no one saves the “day”

If no one really convinces everyone to band together to stop our ever approaching doom…

It will take millions of years to get back where we are now.

Even then…

If those new sentients lack the discipline to overcome their greed,

then the same fate awaits them.

The Creative Fuel

What if we share too much?

One of those people that love to share every detail of their life.

But only to their closest friends of course.

Be smart about which friends you give it to.

Even then its a risky business.

Everyone has bad days.

Maybe sometimes to a stranger.

Something about the thought of telling someone you’ll never meet again a secret that will vanish like bottle thrown to the ocean.

But remember,

When you give it, it’s like giving it away.

You don’t always get the same energy back.

So it’s lost to space.

Deflating your own grandeur…

What if those people don’t keep enough for themselves?

As fuel for art.


I was watching “Africa” last night on Netflix.

I was appreciating how everything about an animal is designed, not random. Every part of them has a purpose.

Does this mean that human intelligence has a purpose?

Was our intelligence formed to protect Earth one day? (Rather than destroy it)

Or maybe one day even the Universe?

Are we one of millions or billions or trillions of “human eras” that have existed?

I think it’s certain

How bad do you want it?

How bad do you want this, Marcus?

How bad do you want to travel?

How bad do you want to write your book?

How bad do you want to make movies?

How bad do you want to make your parents proud???

they won’t be here forever…

The time is Now!

You need to show the world what you’re made of. You need to believe in yourself. You need to work hard as fucking shit and not give a fuck about anything else.


You need to ask yourself… You need to come to terms with whatever your true answer is.

You’ve had the ideas

Now is the time to act on them

The weed’s time is over. It’s done what it can to show you the possibilities, now you have to leave it before it crushes your dreams.

Your future self depends on that

Portugal: a video diary

Portugal is a magical place filled with castles, great food, culture, and scenic views. Even the sidewalks took my breath away! They are made of some kind of white stone blocks that are chiseled and hand placed.

I am an aspiring videograoher and made a video of my time there (which I think will better explain this beautiful country). Let me know what you think!! 😁


Pricking away at a single edge with the tip of my fingernail

Like a price tag on a gift

A scalpel removing an unwanted layer

Only unwanted when outgrown

Underneath lies another

Will there ever be an end?

Can all this growth exist?

Maybe the layers go on forever

Chapters to a book

Twists in a road

Peeling and peeling till infinity

Closer and closer to authenticity

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The Creativity Killer

Creativity and ego can’t go together. If you free yourself from the jealous and camping mind, your creativity opens up endlessly. Just as water springs from a fountain, creativity springs from every moment.”

– Jeong Kwan

I recently heard this when watching an episode of Chef’s Table. This beautiful soul is a monk as well as one of the most celebrated chefs in the world. Her story and wisdom is truly a marvel in its own.

I instantly related to her words as I watched. Ego is in all of us. It controls some of us more than others. Like a poison it can infect and corrode us, tearing relationships apart and keeping our dreams forever just out of reach. This is why I respect Buddhism so much. They devote their lives to stripping away the ego. To become the essence of who they/we are truly meant to be. With hearing these words I immediately felt truth in them. Because I felt it true for my life. I know that my art suffers for a hidden ego that lurks beneath. Silently controlling backstage. Upon hearing this monk’s wisdom a light was shined upon my culprit. I hope to kill my ego one day as the monks try so hard to achieve.

For the sake of creating the beautiful art.

Watch this episode of Chef’s Table to be truly inspired 🙂


Letting people into my psyche

They often don’t play fair

Burroughing into me

Their puppet on strings

However they want me to feel

Seeing myself through their lenses

Do I hand it over so easily?

It’s the ultimate gift

The ultimate sacrifice

To give them the power of how I see

But how do I see?

There are glimpses

I am always happy when we meet

One day I’ll have his eyes for good

Need $30 for a typewriter

One day I was walking down Haight street in San Francisco. It has always been one of my favorite things to do in the city. On this day I had passed a girl that caught my attention. She was around my age and she was holding a sign “Need $30 for a typewriter.” As I kept walking I started to think of what she wanted to write. I guessed that writing was an outlet for her. I imagined it was her artistic passion and that this typewriter was her instrument of creation. I turned around and approached her. I gave her a $5 or $10 (I can’t remember, thinking back I wish I would have given her the full $30) to help and we quickly fell into a conversation. She told me her name was Raven. A nickname I assumed. After telling me that she wanted to write a book, she told me she was finding her way around the United States. She wasn’t homeless, she told me, she was homefree. She was free to go anywhere.

As the minutes went by I found myself sitting down with her on the sidewalk. Sharing smiles and stories. I told her I was newly intrigued by Buddhism. I told her I was fascinated with their values and mastery of mind. “Have you ever read a book called Siddhartha?” She asked me. I hadn’t. “Read it. You will have wish you could have thanked me.”

The next day I searched for this book at a store. Remembering the certainty in her eyes. I quickly felt a connection with the book and fell in love, and it’s now my favorite book I’ve ever read. I think back to that choice I almost passed up. The choice to help someone get (a little) closer to their dream which brought me more than I could have imagined.

Thank you Raven.

Thoughts at my pillow

I lie here

Swimming in an ocean of gratefulness

Often, I have but a few drops

A few drops keeps me going

Wilted… but alive

Just enough to wet my lips and keep whistling away

Tonight my drops are many

They glisten all around me in an soft embrace

Each one a diamond

Where have they been

Were they always there


But the sea

The sea

The sanctiful sea

How great it is to go back from whence we came