Unfiltered Thoughts

The God Lord knows it was a very trying June, it has sucked the writing juice out of me. It's not writer's block, simply the lack of a desire to write. Ironically, June's the month with the most posts on my blog. I haven't shared all of them, but they're here for your viewing pleasure. Shout out to Tau of   Tau Kelvin Writes  for getting the gears rolling for this post.  Read, comment, subscribe to his blog. The man has big dreams, it will be a ride watching him make them happen. Last week, I asked my next door neighbour "Zach" to take me out on a date, he didn't. After what I'd describe as a scolding, he said he would, he hasn't. I saw him for the first time since Sunday, yesterday. He has heading in to his place and I was coming from a  grocery shopping trip, finally bought food, adulting is hard. He smiled wide, asked about my trip and went inside. I felt warm and fuzzy for about two seconds but I was running late for work, I had less...

She looked at him laughing, sharing a joke with friends and in that moment she had an epiphany He's the kind of risk worth taking Her mind was quiet, no objections, finally,  synchronized with her heart. Still the cynic, still jaded But no longer afraid of the possibilities or heartbreak that she suspected would ensue. It doesn't matter anymore. He's the kind of guy that would make the pain worth it The words he inspires will maybe, possibly win her a Pulitzer He's the kind of regret you want to have He's the mistake worth making And on the off chance he's the one, (she still doesn't believe in happily ever afters) he's the kind of man she wants for a life partner, the only man she wouldn't mind fathering her children For the first time in her life she was at peace Her mind echoing the name her heart wisphered, his name And she knew, his was the path she'll walk forever.

When it rains, it pours. Or so the reoccurring theme of my life goes. And like all other times in my life when the devil decides to mess with me, I create a distraction, something entirely of my own making, to amuse myself... This time, I asked "Zach" my next door neighbour out on a date. Picture this: Just getting off work, i'm hungry and tired. As I approach the stairs to my flat, I see that  Zach's car is there, "Zach is home." The thing about Zach is, he is never home. He keeps odd hours, even more so then I do (that's saying a lot). So when he's home, I always say to myself "Zach is home". I've made it into a game of sorts, I smile because I've always thought he's kinda cute, the few conversations that I've had with him have led me to believe that he's not stupid. So I'm walking up the stairs, and instead of continuing I turn and knock on his door. This is completely unmeditated, I'm just going with the ...

A significant number of people have been assuming things about me and its getting annoying. Random facts and statements to set some of the record straight. And then some... 1. Christian because Jesus 2. Feminist 3. Writer/blogger 4. Pro-LGTBI+ 5. I heart the color black 6. Attachment Style: dismissive avoidant 7. I love fruits 8. Cheese and avos are from the devil's workshop 9. Morality exists outside of religion 10. I hated law school, let's never talk about it again! 11. I know I'm beautiful, get over it! 12. I don't wear pants in the house 13. Three word vulgar vocab: fuck, bitch and damn. 14. Organised chaos and I like it that way 15. Two types of people in this world: The ones I love and idiots 16. Love is worth the risk, with the right person, who is a unicorn 17. Beach please! 18. Insomiac 19. Chronically clinically depressed 20. Insecure about my weight, sometimes 21. Almost always guaranteed to tell the truth. 22. Lemons give me ...

A decade ago I started down a path with a single question, does God really care? About me, He care about me? I wasn't asking about why the world is such a messed up place, my questions had nothing to do with the injustices in the world, starving children, wars or diseases, that came later, much later. My angst was very personal, does God care about me? If He does indeed care, why did He allow all the bad shit in my life to happen? What kind of sick game is He playing at? How could He allow me to be hurt in the various ways I was? And why did he appear deaf and dumb to my pleas and my existence. Where is this love that I faithfully told others about? This love that was supposed to sustain me? I began to think He didn't care, for a Being so powerful, He didn't offer much help. And I really wasn't asking for a lot, I was not looking for miracles, just  a sign that He cared, could He maybe  show Himself in a way I couldn't miss? It was and is impossible to...

I knew love once, but he left, some 7 years ago. His name was Cecil but we called him CJ. Facebook deactivated his account, when, I don't know but I just found out an hour ago. He's now just "Facebook User" in my inbox and I can't even send him messages anymore. I haven't thought of contacting him in a long time but now that I can't, I want to, even knowing there will never be a response. I was browsing through my Facebook memories when I noticed that his responses to a status were deleted. I rushed to my inbox to look for his messages but they weren't there. I thought I was done mourning him, didn't think I had anything else to loose, boy was I wrong. I loved him but I didn't realise how much until after he was gone. The thing about him was that he was nothing like what I wanted, so it was easy to bury my head in the sand and repress my feelings. Plus, he was an alcoholic, I've lived that disaster growing up, I wasn't going to marr...

Not so long ago I was told in not so many words that my blog is a cheap knock-off of western bloggers and I shouldn’t call it afroblogging by an African photojournalist. It doesn’t deal with socio-geo-political or environmental issues regarding Africa, therefore it should it not be called afroblogging but blogging by an African. And I understood where he was coming from. I mean I’m not an activist by any definition of the word. It has nothing to do with Afrofuturism, nor “African” fashion, culture or cuisine. The thing about twitter discussions is that they can go south very quickly, so I deflected by joking about feeling like I’ve been scolded and moved on. But that conversation has stayed with me and it’s been bothering me more and more. My question is what is the “ African narrative ”? A quick google search reveals that there is consensus that the narrative needs to change, we need to tell our own stories. The version of Africa the western media is portraying is poor, outdated and...