The Way Forward by Yung Pueblo

Recently, I’ve been on a lucky streak of reading thrilling, heart-wrenching, page-turning books. That’s why the book I’ve chosen to recommend this month comes as a bit of a surprise to me. Don’t get me wrong, I love books—and while I’m fiercely loyal to fiction, people are never surprised to see me with a classic poetry collection or a philosophy text in my hands. However, self-help books usually fall right to the bottom of my list (a "worst in a sea of things I love" situation). To make matters worse, I’ve never been a fan of modern, social-media-style poetry either—the bite-sized, line-broken aphorisms that flood Instagram often feel more like aesthetic slogans than substantive literature.

Yet here I am, recommending Yung Pueblo’s 2023 release, The Way Forward.

To understand why this book broke through my double wall of skepticism, picture me: a 23-year-old student, shockingly human, navigating the unpredictable ebbs and flows of life. Last week, I caught a Thursday evening train from Leeds back to London for the weekend. I was trying to walk the delicate tightrope of degree deadlines, relationships, personal boundaries, and my mental health. Life in itself is inherently overwhelming sometimes. Between constant connectivity, emotional fatigue, and the sheer weight of navigating being human, my head was spinning.

My one glimmer of light amidst the noise was returning home to my London bookshelf—stacked with all-time favorites whose spines are barely holding together alongside volumes untouched for years. Reaching home, feeling myself slip into a dark patch, I stood in front of that shelf waiting for something to call out to me. Almost on instinct, my hand reached for a book I’d bought two summers ago in a tiny shop in Bali that had sat completely untouched ever since: Yung Pueblo’s The Way Forward.

If you wander into a bookstore, you’ll usually find Yung Pueblo (the pen name of Diego Perez) shelved under Self-Help or Poetry. But The Way Forward doesn’t neatly fit into either box. It isn’t a preachy 10-step productivity manual promising to fix your life before 6 AM, nor is it traditional verse trying to impress you with complex literary acrobatics.

Instead, the book is a collection of sparse, minimalist prose reflections and gentle observations on emotional regulation. Laid out with generous white space on every page, his writing feels less like an instruction manual and more like a quiet conversation with someone who understands how heavy things can get.

Consider an excerpt that forced me to stop in my tracks:

“be honest with yourself

about where you are going

how you want to feel

while you are heading there

and who you want to be

when you arrive…”

On paper, these lines are disarmingly simple. But when life is loud, and your brain is overstimulated, simplicity is a critical virtue. The generous layout creates breathing room, transforming reading from a cognitive chore into a quiet, grounding conversation.

The true strength of Perez’s writing lies in how effectively it functions as a mirror. For five years, one single goal has consumed me: finish my degree. Having changed courses after first year and taken two years out during my final year for personal reasons, I had adopted a reductive, survival-mode mentality: just get it over with. I was so fixated on submitting that final piece of work that I never stopped to consider how I actually wanted to feel while heading there. Reading his words forced me to look at my remaining time in Leeds differently – prompting me to stop enduring a relentless storm of deadlines and actively seek pockets of sunshine, whether by joining the BSL society or choosing to walk through campus with curiosity, kindness, and fun.

When I opened The Way Forward, I was so unexpectedly moved that I devoured it in one sitting. Yet, the true genius of the book isn't reading it cover to cover.

As much as I adore getting lost in sprawling 400-page novels, there are times when life feels so heavy that picking up a dense book feels like another item on a stressful to-do list. When your head is spinning, you don't always have the cognitive bandwidth for complex plot lines or academic prose.

This is where Pueblo’s work becomes invaluable. It is designed to live on your bedside table, calling your name at random moments when you need a pocket of comfort. Opening to a single page—three or four lines surrounded by breathing space—can pause your racing thoughts, reframe your intentions, and serve as an accessible journal prompt when a blank notebook page feels daunting.

We often treat reading as something we must consume in huge, impressive quantities. But sometimes, the most transformative book isn't an intellectual endurance test; it's the one that sits quietly on your nightstand, waiting to offer you a moment of stillness exactly when you need it most.

If you are currently navigating your own ebbs and flows, deadlines, or the general noise of life, let this be your sign to pick it up. You don't have to read it all at once—just let it meet you where you are.

Words by India Warshaw, she/her