We often think that going through life-altering things is an all-consuming endevour. We think people with terminal diseases just sit around waiting for death. Continue reading You know what’s funny? I can’t feel my tears.
Survival. I love the word survival, it always sounds to me like a promise. -Audre Lorde. A few weeks ago, I cried. Like, really cried. It is a Saturday evening and I’m scrolling down my Twitter feed, distracting myself, trying not to cry. I have been dangling tears since I left my surgeon’s office. The doorbell rings, and I hear my aunt’s voice asking … Continue reading Survival.
You have friends that will stay on the phone with you for eight hours. No V, our relationship isn’t telepathic, but thank you for calling when you did. You have friends that will offer to pay and accompany you to a therapy session. You have friends that won’t let you forget you matter even when you’re being an incredibly pessimistic piece of shit. You … Continue reading 22 things to remember when you’re incredibly annoyed by your continued state of aliveness.
My second memory, is me throwing up in the toilet after a whole day of running around, moving into this house. My college was in a very hot and dusty town. This town along with school, killed my already elusive joie de vivre. Even now, fifteen months after I officially left school, there are parts of me that are yet to be reawakened; anxieties to be rationalized. By the time we got our house in livable condition, I was so exhausted and dizzy, throwing up was more logical a reaction than any. Continue reading The way music stays with you.
I knew I was going to write about Brooklyn 99 the first time Jake Peralta made the title of your sex tape joke. If you know me, you know that is my kind of humour. For context, the premise of this recurring joke is double entendres: Jake takes something the characters say and turns it into the title of their sex-tape. It is almost exclusively used on Amy Santiago to poke fun at her love life. Continue reading The men of Brooklyn nine-nine.
Schmidt is such an annoyance, Nick once told Jess, “you are not emotionally, mentally and spiritually prepared to throw these d-bags a party” when she suggested that they throw Schmidt a surprise party for his twenty-ninth birthday. In Nick’s defence (and for context), Schmidt once went to a party named “bros before hoes on the moon.” The dress code was yacht-flair. Another one of Schmidt’s friends legally changed his name to Doin’it. Schmidt once threw a party to celebrate his healed penis; an announcement of sorts-he was ready to have sex again. And the theme,-wait for it-danger. Continue reading Schmidt: the lovable douche-bag that gets me through hell.
It’s Monday. Another blog post is due. But your girl has a nasty cough, a congested chest, a ringing in my right year, a painful growing molar and a headache. Yeah yeah, it’s a standard cold(and some more.) I feel like a disgrace either way. Since when do Africans let a mere cold stop them from doing things? Where I’m from, colds aren’t even considered … Continue reading Bits
Hey guys. I know it’s been a while. I’ve been meaning to write a sequel to my previous post but as you can see, I didn’t get around to it. I got such overwhelming positive feedback from you guys, it felt like anything after that wouldn’t be good enough. I just stopped trying at some point. But I promise, even if it kills me, I … Continue reading 2017
Do you ever wake up mad at the sun? How it rises day after day? How it abides by this routine, never caring to honour the terrible nights we sometimes have? Nights full clear darkness and loud silences packed in the cracks of our heartbreaks. But more than that, how can a creation be so stoic? You would think having a ball full of confused … Continue reading Writer’s Block