You are here:



I used to walk out of my house into a grey sea of cracks and garbage covered by a melody of cheerful neighbors and beautiful salsa music. The mountains surrounded the Central Valley of San Jose at all times and gave you a hint of a possible brontide. Regardless, in that moment, the sun shined over us; elysian. Skipping, running and jumping, I used to make my way to the playground. 

The playground was nothing but three swings, one already broken, rusty monkey bars, and a second hand slide. Not counting the old seesaw of-course, we couldn't use it anymore, half of it went missing. But as miserable as it seems and is, for us, it was precious. We would be here all day, laughing and dreaming. 

As the darkness approached us all, moms, grandmas, and aunts scream out the window "come in children it isn't safe at night" "Come in, Come in". Constant words. I walk to my house as all the children leave me behind. I see all the severe cases of nyctophilia come out of their caves. Wrapped in dark clothes and a cigarette attached to their mouths, they met up in gangs. 

One day I took a plane and it swong me into an icy paradise. The change was unwelcomed at first but when I stepped out into the streets, the place shined silver and gray and the air smelled clean, still, and safe. The city of Copenhagen was unforgivably cold but I could run outside into playgrounds that had trampolines built underground and seesaws that could never go missing. The city was perfect but memories of mountains and rivers with waterfalls from back home, reminded me it was not. At night, I was allowed to roam the streets at my own will, and never again did I have to hear my mother tell me it wasn't safe at night. Eventually, I became a nyctophilia myself. This city showed me no mercy when it came to vices, I did them all, slowly depleting the resources it offered, I wanted more. 

A few moments later, attaching myself to yet another plane, I stepped into the city of vices. The energy that engulfed Amsterdam was uncanny, it circled my psyche and gave it back to me as a gift. I vibrated with every single moral value this city held important.The playgrounds here smelled funky, and the seesaws took you into outer space and around the universe. I stayed in that moment for a while until consciousness hit and the need to do more, slowly started to creep in. Eventually as the debate to hop on a plane or hop on a project came to a conclusion, I found myself in a familiar place with unfamiliar people. Together we slowly recognized each other and built friendship within work, unforgettable memories of stress and fadedness. I managed to combine vices and responsibility, and find conscious in the unconscious. The journey continues, and hoping on planes may be unsure but it certainly is a possibility of tomorrow, after all Amsterdam also lacks mountains and rivers with waterfalls.