In a world driven by visibility, validation, and viral moments, acknowledgment has become both deeply desired and dangerously distorted. This entry explores the fine line between seeking recognition and chasing attention, examining intention, humility, and self-awareness in how we show up for others—and ourselves. At its core, it’s a reminder that the most meaningful acknowledgment doesn’t always come from applause, but from purpose, integrity, and within.

Why Me is a deeply personal poem about surviving addiction while grieving the people who didn’t make it out. It explores the complicated emotions that come with recovery gratitude, survivor’s guilt, remembrance, and the quiet question that lingers: Why did I live when so many others didn’t? Through honest reflection, the poem speaks about walking the same roads, fighting the same battles, and witnessing addiction take loved ones one by one. Rather than placing blame or calling anyone weak, it emphasizes the truth that addiction is a painful and unfair struggle one that does not measure a person’s worth. At its heart, Why Me is not only about loss. It is about carrying the memories of those who passed, honoring their names, and choosing to live in a way that keeps their stories alive. It is about turning survivor’s guilt into purpose, and remembrance into light.

This piece is a reflection on grief, survivor’s guilt, and the weight of loving people who are no longer here. I write about what it feels like to carry loss not as memories of years, but as breaths that still feel heavy. It explores addiction, friendship, love, and the quiet exhaustion of being the one who survives when so many don’t. This poem is about honoring the lives that shaped me, sitting with the questions that never fully fade, and choosing to keep living even when the weight of remembrance feels almost unbearable.

This piece is a deeply personal reflection on what it means to survive a childhood where love felt conditional and safety was never guaranteed. I share a journey through betrayal, generational wounds, and resilience, while discovering how pain can transform into purpose. Growing up in the shadow of jealousy shaped me, but it did not define me instead, it guided me toward healing, spiritual awakening, and becoming the love I once needed. This poem explores breaking cycles, reclaiming power, and stepping fully into my voice while choosing light over pain. It is a story of rising, becoming whole, and understanding how even the deepest wounds can shape us into something stronger, wiser, and free.

The Forbidden Keto Code – Unlock the Secrets to Effortless Keto Success Tired of confusion about what’s allowed and what’s not on keto? this is your best bet..

This is an essay that I wrote 9 years ago, thanking The Universe for all my life's struggles. This essay was written 4 years before I started therapy.

I need to start by talking about St. Matthew’s Island. In the 1940s, reindeer were introduced to St. Matthew’s Island as an emergency food source for the people manning the observation station on the island. There was a lot of lichen on the island, the primary food source of reindeer. The humans didn’t stick around long after world war 2, but researchers did check on the reindeer population from time to time. Initially, they were thriving. Their population increased rapidly, and they were healthy. After some time, they had spread across the island in massive numbers. The lichen was getting thin on the ground. By the 1980s, there were no more reindeer on St. Matthew’s Island. They starved to death after eating everything that could sustain them.

I need to start by talking about St. Matthew’s Island. In the 1940s, reindeer were introduced to St. Matthew’s Island as an emergency food source for the people manning the observation station on the island. There was a lot of lichen on the island, the primary food source of reindeer. The humans didn’t stick around long after world war 2, but researchers did check on the reindeer population from time to time. Initially, they were thriving. Their population increased rapidly, and they were healthy. After some time, they had spread across the island in massive numbers. The lichen was getting thin on the ground. By the 1980s, there were no more reindeer on St. Matthew’s Island. They starved to death after eating everything that could sustain them.

The only way I could do that was if you had to do a lot more work and then you would be done by yourself so you would be fine and then I could just go home to you if I needed you and you could just come over here or I can just go home if I need you can just let us go home if we need you guys are you still working I don’t want you guys going anywhere to go I just don’t wanna go anywhere I just wanna know that you’re not working or I just wanna make sure that you’re not doing it for you guys I just want you know that I love to know I don’t wanna do you guys are I don’t wanna go home I just wanna see if I don’t wanna get a job.

The Reverend Pauli Murray knew the wilderness long before Lent ever asked us to enter it. Her life—misnamed, delayed, resisted—mirrors the wilderness stories we hear on the First Sunday in Lent (Year A): eyes opened to the consequences of consciously choosing knowledge and making culture (Genesis 3:7), the ache of hiding and the relief of being seen (Psalm 32), the long arc from trespass to grace (Romans 5:12-19) and Jesus’ own clarity forged in the desert (Matthew 4:1-11). This Tradition Remixed reflection traces how Murray’s vocation, her delayed recognition, the stalled release of her commemorative quarter and the witness of My Name is Pauli Murray reveal a church still wandering in its own unfinished wilderness and the grace that persists anyway.

In part 3, I talked a little about some horrifying possibilities, and I pointed out that those are part of the best-case scenario. This story is about how you can recognize that the collapse has started and know that it’s time to take action. It’s not a fun read, and if you are looking for something positive, maybe save this for later.

In part 3, I talked a little about some horrifying possibilities, and I pointed out that those are part of the best-case scenario. This story is about how you can recognize that the collapse has started and know that it’s time to take action. It’s not a fun read, and if you are looking for something positive, maybe save this for later.

A meditation on longing, motherhood, and the quiet ache of raising children far from the landscape that shaped you. This piece explores grief for what isn’t—and the steady resolve to one day carry your children home to the green still rooted in your heart.

“The Memoirs of Levy”, A series of parts I, II and III. The series is a collection of fictional poetry that consists of poems, narratives and daydreams of the life and experiences of Ms. Daila Brie Levy. The collection relays fictional aspects with some collaboration of the real life non-fiction stories of the writer. A mix of fiction, non-fiction, love, and fantasy.

This part is all about how to survive. The skills I’m going to list are mostly things that are useful no matter what happens, but a lot of them are also way more useful if things fall apart (things are falling apart right now). I’m not going to go too deep into any of them. I have other stories about some of the specifics, and I’m working on more. Some are skills I have, others aren’t, but I recognize the value in them. I have definitely left off a number of skills that will also be useful, but these are just some starter ideas to think about.

This part is all about how to survive. The skills I’m going to list are mostly things that are useful no matter what happens, but a lot of them are also way more useful if things fall apart (things are falling apart right now). I’m not going to go too deep into any of them. I have other stories about some of the specifics, and I’m working on more. Some are skills I have, others aren’t, but I recognize the value in them. I have definitely left off a number of skills that will also be useful, but these are just some starter ideas to think about.

“The Memoirs of Levy”, A series of parts I, II and III. The series is a collection of fictional poetry that consists of poems, narratives and daydreams of the life and experiences of Ms. Daila Brie Levy. The collection relays fictional aspects with some collaboration of the real life non-fiction stories of the writer. A mix of fiction, non-fiction, love, and fantasy.

“The Memoirs of Levy”, A series of parts I, II and III. The series is a collection of fictional poetry that consists of poems, narratives and daydreams of the life and experiences of Ms. Daila Brie Levy. The collection relays fictional aspects with some collaboration of the real life non-fiction stories of the writer. A mix of fiction, non-fiction, love, and fantasy.

Ash Wednesday calls us into a season of honest reckoning, both personally and collectively. This reflection explores the Litany of Penitence as a communal act of clarity and courage, preparing us to live our weekly confession with deeper integrity and hope.

This article examines the moment in long-running narratives when the protagonist stops being the center of power—not through failure, but because the surrounding system no longer needs them. As institutions and processes stabilize, individual agency is absorbed, delayed, or reframed into symbolic relevance rather than real influence. The hero remains visible but no longer decisive. Fiction uses this shift to reveal where power actually resides: in systems that convert disruption into procedure and resistance into management. The article argues that the most destabilizing act is not escalation, but refusal—stepping outside the role the system expects. When stories end without victory, it’s not narrative failure, but an honest admission that systems persist long after heroes stop mattering.