I don't write. I create.
Each day I turn you on and your whir to life, I can’t tell if your excited or fed up?
But you wake to serve me and only me, for I do not share you with another soul.
I click onto my WordPress blog and write a new post, almost every day.
I write for the world of creative writers and hope my passion never fades away.
I picture a Sunday morning I wake up with you.
You’re so interesting, I would like to know everything about you.
From your crazy hair to the deepest thoughts that invade your mind.
After COVID19 has left our lives, I want to become a part of your time.
Thank you for calling last night…
Above me, high up in the sky, the clouds slide over my life.
I wore blue leggings, navy blue to be specific! I wore a highlighter yellow t-shirt. I desired to be the sunshine, the only other known to humankind.
My mind is full of clouds, this crazy world I reside.
On the windows edge sits a small jar of marbles, the wind blows around it and specks of dust lay on my eyes.
I only wanted to buy some snacks from the store. I felt the gravel doing summersaults on my eyeballs.
After the short walk through the wind tunnel of the street, I wiped muck off my face ten thousand times.
Welcome, Saturday!
I think this week may be week 4, I’m not keeping count but you haven’t even called.
I knew back then the decision was correct because my life without you is happier, a life lived with no regret.
I know what my purpose in life is and I’m aware of my journey. I’m not obliged to share that with anyone.
Yes, I use various forms of social media. But when did I agree to be posting on the Gram all day every day? I don’t like the assumptions you’ve made of me.
To repeat, you stated that I should have thousands of followers…why? I post when I feel like posting, my life does not revolve around social-media. Why do you feel that my presence online validates my self-worth? ‘Attention is the greatest evil of all time.’
Before social-media talent was recognised and spoken of, word by glorious word. Since social media, you are known for pouring milk over your ass during a live-stream. You gain loads of followers, you continue to post what they like to see.
You judge me.
You judge ME!
In your mind, my creativity has no meaning.
My education is worthless – I should be earning millions by now.
That’s not the way the world works.
It doesn’t phase you that I’m happy with my progression in life, you don’t even know my struggle, my nightmares, my strife! But you judge me, severely so.
‘How come you don’t have many followers then?’
Its 2020 and despite what you do in life, and no matter the sparkling fact that you’re in your own lane – of you don’t have millions of followers on social media, your purpose in life means NOTHING.
*What a close one stated last weekend.
I messed up yesterday, the day before that and last week if I’m being honest – a matter of fact.
I was supposed to be working on three short stories, but I’ve been doing nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
I’m constantly bombarded with the problems of others and it drains my energy and blocks my creative output.
It’s easy for many to say, ‘Don’t answer the phone, ignore them!’ but it’s hard for me to do. I realise now, I’m going to have to if I want to succeed in this life.
This is crazy, I try to be here for everyone, but it ends up meaning that I’m never here for myself.
nounnoun: fool; plural noun: fools
I like when we talk but I hate waiting until evening.
I wanna see you now, but Rona said NO!
I feel kinda alone in my lil box home and no amount of time on video calls, seem to make loneliness feel gone.
Tuesday
I’m alive, I’m grateful.
Did I wake up, or was I still asleep?
Was I drinking last night, or did I just sleep?
When did our friendship die, I remember 10 months ago but it feels like recently?
Can you break through the wall that leads up to my heart and resuscitate me?
Was I horrible to you in a previous life?
Do you love my voice more than you love my soul?
Are we still aware of one another?
‘There’s really no end, there’s really no beginning.’ – Jhene Aiko
I woke up at 0430 (GMT)
I woke up at 0730 (GMT)
I woke up at 11:30 (GMT)
I woke up at 1539 (GMT)
I woke up at 17:03 (GMT)
Currently, I’m sitting up in bed watching another episode of ‘My 600lb Life.’ While eating a homemade Biscoff cheesecake.
What I get up to today, you’ll never know.
I woke up at 0400 (GMT) showered, smeared olive oil over my body, dressed and went out.
At 0600 (GMT) I walked through the entrance of a supermarket and purchased the following:
I packed everything into one grey backpack, a cooler bag and a large eco-friendly bag. I carried everything home, disinfected the fridge and packed everything away.
After I ate the Quorn ‘chicken’ burgers, I remembered I had forgotten to purchase icing sugar. I ventured back out and after 45-minute walk, I ended up at a 4th supermarket – apparently, everyone is baking and they’re all sold out. However, in the 4th store, I found icing sugar.
Another chunk of time elapsed and there I was watching ‘My 600lb Life,’ via YouTube and drifting to sleep.
I woke up a short while ago and saw two missed calls from Mother. Followed by a WhatsApp message about Ozark on Netflix. Currently, I’m typing up a brief account of my day, eyes slowly closing…
I think about men I’ve longed for but never told.
Maybe we could’ve been, amazing. Who really knows?
I saw you on the shelf and I wasn’t sure if I needed you, but I picked you up and paid for you anyway, as I felt I wanted to.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later that I opened you up and pulled you out of your blue and yellow home. I had been crying profusely, my heart ached, and I felt at a loss without the man I called love.
My nose was runny, and my tears blended in with snot. My lips smothered in my liquid waste, dripping down onto my chest and becoming a recent memory.
There you are to mop up my sadness and capture my snot. I appreciate you tissue, I value you a lot.
You should’ve been ready before the end of February, but I could not figure you out.
3000 words was all I needed to create you and express you out, in the form of ink and paper.
Fury, you’re driving me crazy.
Short stories take forever…
I thought about our conversation and felt compelled to share my emotions with you.
I like you.
Well, I think I do?
My hair is a mess and my face is full of spots, but you said you didn’t care, ‘Unique, you’re beautiful.’
I have walls up and I feel you trying to break them down. I’m not sure how I feel about that, I don’t know if I want love around.
I was young and trusting and I trusted you to do my hair.
To braid it up and make me feel pretty.
But you cut my hair at night-time, you cut my hair as I slept.
Auntie B, you’re a BITCH!
I woke up and wept.
I hate your existence; I despise your blood type.
Don’t speak Unique into your life, when you see my name in print and online.
I’ll write about how disgusting you are and how unfortunate I couldn’t pick my family.
I’ll emphasize your ability to be a whore and work legit at the same time.
Technically you’re listed as an aunt on my tree, but bitch you’re no family of mine!
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