When the World Is Running, I Choose to Sit Still and Watch the Clouds

As a child of Brooklyn’s mixed-cultural balcony—raised by a Black poet mother and a British-Chinese coder father—I learned that true power isn’t in chasing victory, but in the quiet space between bets. This is not a game of kings, but a mirror for the soul: every spin, every pause, every silent win becomes a ritual. I write this not to win, but to remember what it means to be human.
When the World Is Running, I Choose to Sit Still and Watch the Clouds

When the World Runs, I Choose to Sit and Watch the Clouds: A King's Game of Quiet Courage

As a child of Brooklyn’s polyglot soul—raised on African poetry and British code—I learned that true power isn’t in winning, but in stillness. This is not a game of luck, but of inner rhythm: each bet, a breath; each loss, a pause. In the kingdom of digital myth, victory is measured not by coins, but by clarity. I play not to conquer, but to listen.
When the World Runs, I Choose to Sit and Watch the Clouds: A King's Game of Quiet Courage