10 years, 4 months, 7 days and 3 hours
He’d been getting on her nerves. She’d asked him to do some simple chores; mow the lawn, clean the garden up, wash the car, iron the family clothes and feed his younger siblings their dinner so she could rest after a hard day’s work. He’d done them, but not with the speed nor alacrity she’d liked, and now he was complaining that he was tired.
She whips around suddenly and he sees an expression on her face he’s never seen before, as she spits out ‘You’re a spoilt apple just like your father. You should be grateful you’re even here. No-one wanted you. I was the only one that took you in. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to because no-one else wanted to. You look just like him, and you act just like him. He broke us, he destroyed us, he robbed us, he shattered all our lives…because of you?!’ The last word is spat out with such venom, Cassius jumps back, and freezes. Continue reading
Back at it again with the travel posts! I swear that’s all I have the energy for these days. To be honest there’s lots I could have blogged about so far, but I prefer to micro-blog it on my personal Twitter and Facebook as I don’t want to deal with ignorance or trolling in my comments. I’m finding that even on those platforms I’m still dealing with the wildest ignorance, and that’s largely from people I know, let alone inviting the whole internet to spin my spirit. The world is in a dark era right now, and even as a social commentator, you need to work out for yourself when to speak, where to speak, and what to speak. And above all, how to do all of that whilst protecting your mind from repetitive negativity. For now, in this particular space, I’m choosing to share carefree things; things that hopefully inspire people to know that all these issues may consistently be attempting to drown you, but there will always be days where you’ll be able to get up and swim, and on those days you need front crawl to your place of peace.
I’ve wanted to go to Croatia for the longest time, so when some friends said to join the end leg of their trip, I said ‘of course’ :).
I don’t really have much to say in this post except that it was as beautiful as I expected it to be. When you land in Split, one of its greatest attributes are its amazing mountains which you can pretty much see from wherever you are. It’s also in these mountains that some of Game of Thrones was filmed…which I found out on my last day whilst speaking to my taxi driver. Sigh.
The beach closest to where we were – Znjan beach – was interesting…and by that I mean that the sand was literally only about 1 metre’s worth from the sea, and after that it was pebbles, lol. So if you’re thinking about visiting Split for its beaches, make sure there is actually a sandy seashore…if you’re into lying on the beach and sunbathing. A lot of them seem to be of that similar calibre.
Firstly…Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and Happy Easter! It has literally been that long, but you know how it is…life…writer’s block etc. In truth I didn’t completely stop writing, I just relocated my musings to a more abstract and free-writing space, another blog of mine www.inpursuitofequilibrium.tumblr.com – follow if you wish.
Now to cut to the chase – an approach that the older I get, the quicker I am employing it, and the more I appreciate those who don’t dibble and dabble in unnecessary waffle,
expect shorter blog posts…maybe…
…this post is about what’s piqued my audio interest. It’s funny because I used to have a job where a significant proportion of each week was to produce, record, edit, and research podcasts. Was I listening to any at that point in time? Zip zero. Nada. Now if you’ve been following this blog awhile, you’ll know that I am the TV show fiend of fiends, I am basically the human embodiment of Sidereel. When it came to podcasts though, I was highly unmotivated to engage with any. Even after several recommendations of Serial.
I used to have this childish thing I would do where I would imagine myself in opposing circumstances and ask myself which would I pick (if I could choose), over the other. It was always a comparison between two crude scenarios. Strictly hot or cold stuff. No lukewarm loopholes. A choice had to be made.
An example, is whether I would prefer to be blind or be deaf. Or if I would prefer to never be able to walk or have no hands. Or if I would prefer to be beautiful and dumb, or intelligent and culturally ugly. The list goes on.
I can’t explain why or when I started doing this. I can only attempt to reason.
Billie Holiday, Downbeat club, New York, c. February 1947 (photographed by William P. Gottlieb)
When I was a younger, I used to have a book that was basically a collection of biographies of all the greatest black jazz musicians and artists. It was filled with stunning black and white pictures of elegantly dressed young black women, and dapper young black men. Pictures of them in their element; happy, fulfilled, killing it. People like Louis Armstrong, Lena Horne, Billie Holiday, Lester Young and Nina Simone. I loved looking at the pictures, reading through it, getting to know some of the artists who had inspired people for generations, some I’d heard of, some I hadn’t – I loved being able for the first time (this was before Wikipedia was a thing for me), being able to get some insight into who they were personally.
And I hated it. Yes, I grew to dislike that book as it became for me an encyclopaedia of a predictable cycle of disaster, tragedy and abuse.
It’s been a while since I wrote a proper post so hello and thanks for sticking with me. I have many excuses, two of which I’ll be expanding on in this post 🙂
I need travel, and travel needs me…at least that’s what I tell myself, and so in the months of May, June and rounding up in July, I went to the continent (Hi Raven Simone) of Africa for the first time. ‘What?!’ I hear you say. Yeah…don’t @ me, I don’t want to explain.
The first place I went to was Nigeria.
Like I said, this was my first time going, and as soon as I landed in Mohammed Murtala International Airport, I thought ‘I really fit in here’ hahaha. I went for a family wedding, and people kept asking me ‘How does it feel? Is it a culture shock?’ and my response was ‘No’. Listen, when you grow up as a Nigerian, though nothing compares to actually being in Nigeria, everything else is the same; the language, the haggling, the culture…etc. Literally it’s just a shift in location.